To Understand Love
by saiyajinxyz
Summary: Goten is growing up. As he matures, the friendship he has shared with Trunks starts to become strained as both try to understand what it means to be a friend and how to understand one another's feelings, especially that elusive emotion known as love.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N First of all, this is a yaoi story about Goten and Trunks, who I happen to think go together like peanut butter and jelly. That means it's a boy/boy romance story. If you don't like that sort of thing, don't read it and please don't flame. This story will not exceed rating standards, but I've put it under mature for language. Reviews are appreciated as long as they aren't flames because you don't like yaoi stories. I've written other things on this site under a different pen name, and I assure each reviewer who does not leave an anonymous review will get a reply because I appreciate them. Constructive criticism is appreciated because that's what reviews are for! Anyway, sorry for the long note. Enjoy!_

_Also, for a point of reference, this story will take place entirely from Goten's point of view except for the brief introduction, which is from Trunks's perspective. Therefore, it is in first person. _

_Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ or any of its characters._

Love. Ha, what a stupid word and even stranger concept yet, for some strange reason, it seems to have an unequivocal place in the universe as the one thing that dominates the actions and intents of human beings. Okay, in lay man's terms, it's what totally fucks us all up, probably beginning when we start having hormonal surges in middle school. Actually, I'm not even too sure about when we start fantasizing about love and all that garbage. All I know is that for some reason, it's a condition that just about everybody wants to find themselves in, even if it isn't exactly the easiest thing to deal with. Let's face it, how many of us have fallen in love with someone, only to have our hearts yanked out and shot into a million tiny pieces? More times than you can count, am I right?

Do I _sound_ just a little cynical about the love thing to you? Good because the truth is, I think humans have the concept so screwed up, they wouldn't even know what true love was if it hit them square on the head. I mean, get real. Giving flowers and chocolates does not equate to true love. Nor does having wild passionate sex. Oh yeah, those things can be helpful in a relationship but they're just that…things. They really don't mean anything unless you give them some sort of significance and honestly, how many people really give a rat's ass about a box of stupid chocolates? You eat them and the next thing you know, they're in the shitter. But anyway, I'm sure you've gotten the point.

But what exactly _is_ the point that I'm trying to get across? Well listen up because here it is. Do I believe in love? Yeah, I guess I do, but not the commercialized crap that we've been fed ever since we were old enough to watch TV. It's not about giving stupid presents or professing your undying emotion. That kind of love usually ends up finding it's way to the curb, and believe me, I've been in enough relationships that have gone sour to know exactly what I'm talking about. True love is more like a state of mind that goes beyond giving and expecting something in return. It begins with putting your trust into someone. That might sound easy, but it's not. The thing is, once you do it, you'll know how wonderful it is, especially if that trust is reciprocated. Friendship, understanding, and the ability and the willingness to work on your relationship, even when things are rocky and it seems like the easiest route is to just quite. Last but not least, the desire to do anything in your power to make that one person happy, even if it means sacrificing your own happiness. That's what true love is people. And that's what I'm talking about: how I found out what it is like to finally fall in love with someone even if it was the last thing I really wanted or expected. It was Heaven and Hell all wrapped into one.

* * *

The phone is ringing off the hook. I can hear it before I even walk up the outside steps that lead to the front door of my small apartment in West City. Dropping my groceries outside the doorway, I fumble for my keys, swearing when they get caught on the inside of my pants pocket. I'm not usually a klutz, but sometimes, when something really important is going on, the fates have a way of giving me a hard time. It's all I can do not to just kick the door in. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, I pull my keys out, unlock the door and then make a mad dash for the telephone.

"Hello?" I ask into the receiver, feeling slightly foolish that I sound so out of breath. But seriously, having to try to answer the phone under such stressful conditions, who wouldn't be like that?

"Hey Goten! What's up? Been working out or something buddy?"

I laugh slightly into the phone and throw my cursed keys onto the small kitchen counter of my apartment. Moving the phone to my other ear, I cradle it against my shoulder and then go back to the front door to pick up my discarded groceries before someone decides to run off with them.

"Aww, nah, nothing like that."

Leaning over, I grab my groceries, slam the door with my foot and then make my way back to the small kitchen inside my humble home.

"You just called me when I got home and I couldn't get my keys out of my pocket, that's all."

"Oohhh, so, is there something you want to tell me?"

I can feel a blush starting to creep across my cheeks. There are things that I'd love to tell him, but I don't really think that they are things he'd particularly like hearing. Anyway, he just likes giving me a hard time because he knows he can. That's how it has always been between us: Trunks and me. This time, I decide to play ignorant.

"Uh, like what?"

"Like…why you were so desperate to answer the phone. Come on, you can't fool me with the dumb act. Who is she?"

Of course with him, it would have to be a girl. I don't think he's ever considered the fact that perhaps I'm not all that interested in girls during this point of my life. Still, I have to give him some sort of answer otherwise he'll just badger me until I do.

"Umm, no one really. I was just hoping that Centrix was calling me about an interview. I could really use a new job."

"Oh."

For some reason, it irritates me that he's more interested in my social life then that of my personal life and aspirations. Maybe it's because Trunks doesn't have a clue when it comes to how the real world works, being the heir to Capsule Corporation and all the wealth he's been privileged to since he was a baby. I, on the other hand, really don't have extreme intelligence to recommend me, and my family's been poor as long as I've been alive, although I can't say I ever lacked for anything. Even though the two of us practically grew up together and we've been friends as far back as I can remember, the gulf between our social status is like this ever widening gap separating the two of us, and it has only gotten worse the older we've gotten. But I don't want to bother him with my morose thoughts. Not now anyway.

" 'Oh,' is that all you can say?" I ask him while I start putting away the groceries into my fridge.

"Well gee Goten, if you really want a new job, I can get you one here at Capsule. Then you won't have to live in that awful place you call home. You could even come and move in here. We've got plenty of space."

I sigh. I know he means well, but that's where the gap I was telling you about rears its ugly head. Sure, it would be great to work for Capsule and move out of my tiny apartment. But the reality is, I'm not the kind of person that takes things without working for them. It just wouldn't be right. This is an old argument of ours and I'm not in the mood to talk about it with him. It's Friday night, and I just want to relax after having worked my ass off in sales today at the used auto lot I work for.

"Hello, earth to Goten? Are you still there?"

Rolling my eyes, I finish putting my groceries into the refrigerator and slam the door shut.

"Yeah, I'm here. Listen, I don't want to talk about this okay?"

"Well, avoiding it isn't going to make it any better."

I just ignore that comment and walk over to my futon, plopping myself down onto the mattress.

"So Trunks, why did you call me?"

I can hear a pause on the other end of the phone and I know he's trying to think of something to say, irritated at how I effectively changed the subject before he could put his two cents in. In that regard, he's a lot like his father. He doesn't like not having the last word, especially when he can lord something over someone else.

"Well, to see if you were up to anything tonight. I haven't seen you in a while."

"It's been what, like a week?" I ask him, leaning my head against the back of the futon.

"That is a while for us! Are you busy?"

I think about it for a minute. Am I busy? No. Do I want to go out clubbing to try and pick up girls? Not really. Am I going to go if he asks me to? Probably. Pathetic.

"Nah, I'm not busy. Just tired though. Today was rough."

"That's why I'm telling you to come and work at Capsule! You could be my assistant or something and you wouldn't have to actually do anything. We could blow off work and you'd still get paid."

There it is again. Like I said, Trunks doesn't like to take no for an answer, especially when he comes up with ridiculous schemes like getting me to work as his assistant. I know that it would never happen. For one thing, Bulma does all the hiring and she would never hire me in that capacity simply because she knows her own son too well. She would realize that it would be a blow off job. And secondly, I wouldn't feel right taking advantage of his family. It's the work ethic my Mom beat into me, even though I didn't realize I had one until I moved out on my own.

"Look Trunks, no offense or anything, but I don't want to work at Capsule. It wouldn't be right. So just drop it."

I can hear him take in a breath and I know my tone of voice wasn't the usually nice and naïve one I normally speak in.

"Shit, someone's in a bad mood."

"I'm not in a bad mood! I just want you to drop the subject, okay? God Trunks!"

There's a pause before he speaks up again. Letting out a frustrated sigh, I feel slightly guilty for going off on him, but he just doesn't know when to quit sometimes and if I don't get testy, he won't lay off. It's a lesson I've learned over time with him. If I want him to stop being the boss of me, I've got to stick up for myself. It doesn't mean I like doing it though. He's my best friend and I hate it when we fight, even over little stuff like this.

"Look, I'm sorry for being crabby. I just don't want to talk about it. Do you still want me to go out with you or are you pissed at me?"

"I'm pissed, but I still want to go out with you. I just don't see…"

I interrupt him before he can start in on it again.

"Fine, I'll change. Come over in about a half an hour and I'll be ready."

With that said, I hang up the phone before he can try to dominate the conversation. Throwing the phone over onto a nearby table, I get up and make my way back to the kitchen to fix myself a snack. Throwing myself into the rhythm of making a sandwich, I can feel the tension that seems to have soaked into my muscles start to seep out again. It's been like this a lot recently between the two of us and I don't think he even notices. What's more, there are other things that have started making my friendship with Trunks even more complicated, although it's all on my part and not on his. I sometimes wish things were as simple as when we were kids together. But we're both adults now and the reality of being an adult makes the thought about being a kid again wishful thinking.

Taking my sandwich with me, I munch on it as I take a turn into the small bedroom off the living room. My apartment isn't a bad place to live in actuality. It just isn't the roomy penthouse my best friend is used to. It's in a nice neighborhood, the rent is reasonable and I don't need a huge place since I'm a bachelor and don't have a lot of belongings. Sometimes I'd just like to ask him, what's wrong with living simply? For a while, I used to get so eaten up with jealousy over all the perks Trunks had when we were growing up, especially once we got into high school. But one day, I realized that being upset over such a trivial thing like whether or not I could afford to buy a new name brand cell phone or laptop or whether or not I could afford a car instead of using the transit system or my own man power to fly was just dragging me down. And since I made the decision to be happy with the gains I've made in my own life instead of comparing the material desires of mine with what Trunks has, I've been much happier. I just wish that he could see it too.

Shaking my head, its all I can do not to just collapse on my small bed instead of finding something in my messy closet to wear. I really don't want to go clubbing. I know that Trunks is just going to get drunk off his ass and flirt with anything that moves and I'm going to have to be his babysitter. And then he'll cajole me and try to get me drunk.

I used to think it was fun getting wasted with him. However, one day, I realized it wasn't fun waking up with a hangover so bad that I felt like I was dying. Or the few times I ended up in some girl's bedroom without remembering how I ended up there or if we actually did anything together. Maybe it's just the fact that I'm responsible for myself and I can't just blow stuff off the way he can. At any rate, I'm going to go because he's my friend and while I do complain a lot to myself about how things are between us, I do want to spend time with him. I just wish I didn't always have to share him. Maybe it's selfish of me, but the older I'm getting, the more I long for the way it was when we were stupid kids goofing around with our super powers.

Walking over to the closet, I curse when a pile of pants I threw up on the top shelf collapses and falls on my head. If my mom were here, she would have had a hemorrhage over how messy my closet is, but that's the nice thing about living on my own. I don't have to listen to her harp about my sloppiness or why I haven't found a nice girl to settle down with, like Gohan did. In fact, I've been avoiding home just because of that. I'm twenty-five years old and I'm still single. When Gohan was my age, he already had Videl and Pan. Sometimes, I am a little jealous when it comes to my brother, but then I think about how nice it is not to be tied down like that. Lately, however, I think the desire to finally have companionship in my life like the way my parents have it, or Gohan and Videl have it, is starting to create a void in my heart that I didn't know existed. And the scary fact is…

Relaxing my arms, I start pulling the few pairs of pants that are clinging to me off of my body, changing my thought direction. Dwelling on loneliness and lack of companionship isn't going to make it any better. So perhaps, even thought I'm not really looking forward to going out, hanging out with Trunks at a club is a blessing in disguise.

Finding a pair of cargoes and a decent looking button down shirt that isn't too wrinkly, I grab my clothes and a fresh pair of boxers and head to the shower to wash away the accumulated sweat on my body from trying to sell used cars in the heat of the summer. Stepping into the small bathroom that's off to the left of my equally small bedroom, I strip out of my work clothes and then turn the water to the shower on, waiting for it to get nice and hot before I decide to step inside.

Maybe it's strange, but sometimes, I catch myself looking at my naked reflection in the mirror. I've never really thought too much about my looks, having decided long ago that I was no where as near good looking as Trunks. I smile foolishly to myself. I don't know why I ever decided that Trunks was the epitome of what manly good looks were all about. I'm mean the guy is cursed with purple hair for fuck's sake. Yet, even to this day, I still find myself comparing looks with him and never quite measuring up. It's stupid, I know, but part of it is because as far back as middle school, he was the one that all the girls were after. And some of the boys too, although they were more discrete about it. And until I worked my way through community college, no one had ever given me a cursory look.

Still, I sometimes wonder…would he think that I'm attractive? I swallow heavily and try to ignore that thought while I bite my lip and stare at my reflection. It's another ridiculous idea, and I don't know where it has been coming from as of late. I've always liked girls…at least, I've always _thought_ that I liked girls. The few times that I've gone out with them, I had a really nice time when I wasn't wondering if they were just going out with me so that they could get to Trunks. I'm sure you could see where that would put a strain on our relationship. And then somewhere along the line, within the last couple of years, that stray thought about whether or not Trunks would find me attractive started to creep into my brain. I blame it on the stupid girls I once dated, and I usually turn it off without a second thought, but sometimes, especially when I'm getting ready to take a shower, it will pop into my head and make me think about….things.

I have a nice, well-muscled body. My hair is kind of wild, but at least it's not purple. And I think that I have a nice smile. Yeah, I have a nice smile. Scratching the back of my head sheepishly, I pull away from the mirror and step into the shower. You're just being an idiot, I tell myself while I lather up my body and hair and then let the water rinse it all off.

Within five minutes, I'm out of the shower and dried off. Wrapping the towel around my waist, I grab my shaving supplies out of the small medicine cabinet above the toilet and then start removing the five o'clock shadow that's present on my cheeks and along my jaw. It's kind of strange actually. Gohan has always been blessed without having to shave much, and I don't think my dad really does either. The only one of the Saiyans that I've ever known to be able to grow a decent amount of facial hair is Vegeta. Yet, I've been cursed as well, most likely inheriting that trait from my Grandpa. Rinsing off my razor, I quickly slice the stubble of my cheeks, happy that I avoided cutting myself in the process. Splashing water on my face, the last of the shaving cream goes down the sink drain. With that accomplished, I decide to gel my hair so that my bangs spike out slightly. In a few minutes, my hair is done, my deodorant and cologne is on and all I have to do is pull on my clothes.

Grabbing the clean items off the toilet, I let the towel around my waist drop to the ground before sliding my pair of boxers up my legs and over my ass. Grabbing my pants, I do the same before I throw on a T-shirt and then put on my button down shirt, leaving a few of the buttons and the top undone. Picking up my dirty clothes from off the bathroom floor, I step out of the bathroom and throw them on the pile in my bedroom. Just as I'm about to grab my wallet, the doorbell rings.

Unconsciously, I smooth back my damp hair before I reach the door and pull it open, revealing Trunks who is dressed immaculately for a night out on the town. Internally, I frown, feeling like a slob compared to him, but his bright smile at the sight of me helps to push my negativity to the side.

"Hey Goten! Looking good! The girls are going to be all over you, my friend."

I blush slightly at his rather frank assessment and then step aside, letting him into my small apartment. He slides past slightly and then stops, leaning in close to my face as his nose unconsciously sniffs something. Feeling jittery, I back away slightly. Sometimes, whether it's intentional or not, he'll do funky things like that and it always has had the effect of making me nervous.

"Wh…what are you doing?" I ask, cursing when my voice cracks slightly.

"Are you wearing…. Cologne?"

Immediately, I feel like a complete dolt. Relaxing, I shove him away and smack him in the shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm wearing cologne. Do you have a problem with that? It's disgusting when you sniff me like that."

All he does his grin at me, his eyes expressing pleasure over the fact that he could make me squirm like a girl.

"Aww, come on Goten. You like it when I do that! Anyway, it smells good on you. I'm going to have to guard your back, my friend, because there are going to be swarms of chicks after you tonight!"

I want to tell him that I do _not _like it when he does weird shit like that and that I think he's exaggerating about the girls, but I just keep my mouth shut and head towards the open door of my apartment. Looking back at him, I use my eyes to convey that I'm ready to leave and get the night over with.

"Fuck Goten, you don't have to look like being swarmed by girls is a horrible thing. You need to lighten up, Chibi!"

With that said, he slides past me and exits my apartment, stepping down the stairs and unlocking his flashy silver sports car. Frowning, I lock the door and then follow him, getting into the passenger side of the car. Letting out a deep sigh, I bury myself into the cushions as he starts the car and then pulls away from the curb with a screech of rubber.

Have I already said that I'm not looking forward to this? I still think Trunks is oblivious to the real reason I've agreed to come, but the idea of keeping him from going off and doing something stupid with the multitude of girls that will be swarming him doesn't have a lot of appeal to it. I'm just doing this because he's my friend, and sometimes, doing something you don't like with the person you want to spend time with is better than spending another evening alone.

_I hope you liked the first chapter! Please leave a review if you would like._


	2. Chapter 2

_Hello again! I'm back with the next chapter. I hope this doesn't upset anyone, but I don't intend for this story to evolve into a full blown romance from the very beginning. These things take time, and I'm the sort of writer where character development is an essential ingredient as well as lots of details to give you a visual picture of what's going on. I hope I'm living up to my own high standards. And thanks so much for the reviews! I appreciate it!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ or Jägermeister._

_Chapter 2_

Forty five minutes. Forty five fucking minutes. Forty five minutes and Trunks is already on the path to complete oblivion and I'm the one who has to witness his descent into debauchery and antipathy towards the general public. Once again, I find myself asking the question, what the hell was I thinking when I agreed to come along? Especially since I knew that this was what was going to happen. The whole situation agitates me and Trunks…Trunks pisses me off.

Growling under my breath, I watch as he smirks at some frilled up tart who looks like she could be a street walker or a whore. She's all over him, pushing her almost completely exposed bosom against his arm while he just laughs, and laughs, and laughs. And the one person he said he wanted to spend time with, who he wanted to go out with, is completely ignored. I don't doubt for a second that he wouldn't even miss me should I just get up from my table and walk away, leaving him to his own sordid tastes and perverse appetites. However, I can't just leave him. My ridiculous honor code won't allow for me to leave when, at some point during the night, his judgment will be completely eroded and he'll need somebody to make sure he doesn't do something entirely irrational and dangerous. That's what it feels like I've become to him: his god-fucking babysitter. And I'm stupid enough to have allowed for this to have happened in the first place.

Running my hands through my hair, messing up the gelled spikes I put in before I left to come to this…this hellhole, I let out a deep breath through my nostrils and lean against the wall. I can see the smoke from the numerous cigarette smoking patrons swirl against the bright lights that contrast with darkness of the walls and booths. It's enough to make me want to gag and vomit, the stench of decay and corruption mixed in with the repugnant smoke. Not for the first time, I wonder what the appeal of coming to these places is for Trunks. He's never lacked for companionship or popularity, so why he thinks he needs to fill his body with chemicals and stick his manhood into some sluttish girl makes absolutely no sense to me. If anything, it should be the opposite. It should be _me_ who's destroying themselves for the benefit of god knows what. Simply because according to Trunks's standards, I'm lacking for just about everything.

So why are we so different? Not for the first time, I wonder what it is that seems to be driving the two of us apart. At least, that's how I feel at any rate. Trunks just seems to be oblivious, or maybe he's in denial. He's never been one to face up to reality, and the truth is, he's never really had to except for the few times when we were growing up where Vegeta would pound some sense into his thick head.

Maybe it's because I'm growing older and I'm maturing because I have to. I'm not really the innocent, naïve chibi that I used to be, who would blindly follow Trunks into whatever scheme he had concocted inside his genius head. There is still a part of me that is innocent and only wants the simple things in life, such as good friends and companionship. However, living on my own, working for a living; those things have also changed and shaped me. I've had to become responsible, whereas Trunks…Trunks still acts like he's a seventeen year old hothead when he's almost twenty seven years old. And I'm starting to become disgusted with the path he's decided to take.

Blinking my eyelids, I let out a stifled yawn as I once again find myself watching Trunks down his fifteenth or sixteenth shot of alcohol. He throws his head back and slams the drink, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly before he tilts his face forward and wipes the drops on his lips off with the back of his arm. Grinning like a drunk, he throws his arm around the slut he's currently with and whispers something into her ear. I narrow my eyes when her hand slides down to his waist and it's suddenly clear to me what Trunks has in mind. Swallowing down my anger and aggravation, it's all I can do not to stand up and walk away. To stand up and leave him to suffer the consequences for his twisted behavior. Again, I wonder, is it even worth going out to places like this with him, all because I'm lonely and he's my best friend? Or is he really even a friend to me anymore? I don't know…and that thought makes me want to cry. What's happening to us? Why can't he see what he's doing to himself…and what he's making me feel by watching him act like a jackass?

I don't know how long I sit at the table, lost in my own thoughts to the point where I have siphoned off the noise, the smells, and the filth of the club around me before reality rears its ugly head. Shaking my brain back awake, I glance over to where Trunks was a moment before, only to realize that he's gone. Twisting my lips into a grimace, I try to ignore the feelings of hurt and humiliation, that the person who wanted me to come out with him has completely ditched me for some disgusting slut.

Standing up suddenly, I push away from the table I've been seated at for the last hour or so. I have no idea where he's disappeared to, although it would be fairly simple for me to find him by locking onto his ki. However, I don't particularly want to walk in on him fucking some whorish girl senseless. Inside my heart, I can feel this sense of conflict. I don't want to leave him because I know that he's on a downward spiral for the evening and I'm afraid of what could happen to him. Although, let's be honest. Trunks is half-Saiyan, just like myself, so the chances of him getting seriously injured are slim to none. However, when he's punch drunk off his ass, his reason goes out the window and there is no telling what sorts of situations he could end up in. On the other hand, he's a grown adult and I shouldn't have to spend my free time wasted by taking care of him.

Making my decision, I push my way out of the crowd that's started to accumulate, ignoring the jeering looks and swearwords of pissed off patrons who don't appreciate me thrusting my way out of the club. Stepping outside, I turn away and suddenly indulge in the desire to run away…to run away from what I just did to my friend and that place where corruption and extravagance seem to be so thickly entwined with one another.

After a few minutes, I stop at a street corner and let out a heaving breath. Just leaving that place clears my head, and the nausea I felt from the smoke and the stench of the bar vanishes without a trace. Straightening out my frame, I glance upward at the dark sky, trying to piece together why I left him there…why I abandoned him to his own devices. A sick feeling of guilt swirls through my stomach, but I push it to the side as I let my anger get the better of me.

What happened to looking out for me, watching my back so that I wouldn't get attacked by the multitude of girls he said would be after me? Truthfully, I knew that what he said wasn't going to happen. I mean, how can I, Son Goten, compare to the wealth and looks of one Trunks Briefs? Still, the fact that as soon as we walked into the club and claimed a table he left me in favor of the bar and the oblivion of Jägermeister angers me deeply. And it hurts. He was the one who wanted _me_ to go out with him and he left me to fend for myself, acting like I wasn't even there as soon as he started pouring liquid poison down his gullet.

Stepping off the curb, I cross against the stoplight and head towards my apartment. Thrusting my hands into my pants pockets, I let the summer heat and humidity absorb into my skin, pulling out the smells of the bar lingering on my clothes and hair. I'll have to take another shower as soon as I get back. The last thing I want is to smell like an ash tray when I slide into my bed, reminding me that I just left Trunks to fend for himself.

It doesn't take long before I'm at the door of my apartment. Taking out my key, I guide into the lock and pull the door open. It only feels like seconds ago, I was just leaving to go out with my friend as a way to relieve some of my own loneliness. And here I am, back again and just as lonely as I was to begin with. And on top of everything else, I feel guilty because I walked away without telling him where I was going, even though it shouldn't matter. It shouldn't matter, because he did the same to me. But it _does_ matter and that sense of wanting to cry almost overwhelms me.

Now don't get me wrong. I'm not an overly sentimental or emotional guy, but when it comes to Trunks, my normal responses to the world seem to have the nasty habit of going out the window. It's just that I've know him for so long and we've been together through so much, it's hard not to have the deep emotional connection I share with him. Or should I say, shared with him. Lately, it seems like he's so caught up in the petty trivialities of his own life that mine doesn't matter, except for when he wants some sort of companionship to remind him of what it was we once had as kids. However, we aren't kids anymore, and even though I often wish things could be that simple again, the life of an adult is never simplistic. It's complicated and murky, with no clear delineations except for the fact that we all try to strive to find ourselves and what it is we were meant to fulfill.

Maybe that's the reason Trunks has become so enamored of getting wasted. I mean, his life has been mapped out since he was a baby. There never was a time when he was given the chance to explore his potential or any of the myriad of possibilities waiting for him. And even though my life growing up wasn't easy and I had to work for the progress I've made in it, I was never set in a path that I had to fulfill. I was never expected to become something that perhaps, I didn't want to become. I've always been just Goten. Pure, stupid Goten and for the most part, I've been happy with the way my life has been shaping. I've been happy except for this feeling that I'm losing the one friend who I thought understood me. I'm losing him to his own private demons and I don't know how I can help, or even if he would let me. Let's face it: if someone doesn't think there is a problem to begin with, how could anyone hope to help them?

Shaking off my deep thoughts, I slowly shut the door to my apartment and let my eyes adjust to the darkness. I can't let myself get swept into this feeling of despair. I can't, but no matter how much I try to will myself into thinking that I did the right thing, I only feel like I've let him down.

Blinking away that stupid moisture building behind my eyelids, I stumble towards the bathroom and close myself inside, finally turning on a light so that I don't end up crashing into something. Taking a good look at myself, I frown remembering my early thoughts before I had left to go the club. I'm not worth him…even though I know that isn't true.

Turning on the shower, I strip out of my clothes and step inside before the water heats up, letting the cold temperature bite into my skin. Swallowing down the lump in my throat, I bend forward and put my forehead against the shower wall, feeling the water as it soaks into my hair and drips down my back and shoulders.

"God Goten…you fucking left him."

And then I just let it out.

* * *

I can hear my alarm ringing. I can hear it, but I don't want to move out of the nest of sheets wrapped around my body. To say that I slept well last night would be the understatement of the century. To say that I slept like shit would be the more accurate of the two.

Groaning, I shift under my sheets and then slowly sit up, blinking away the grogginess of sleep, or lack thereof. Turning my head towards the obnoxious sound, I notice the lateness of the hour. It's already well past one o'clock in the afternoon, which means that my alarm has been ringing for the last two hours. I pity my next door neighbor, but then I shrug that thought off as I peel away the top sheet and slide out of my bed, rubbing my eyes as I make my way over to my damned alarm clock.

Turning it off, I stupidly walk over to the doorway. Leaning against the frame, I wonder about Trunks….Trunks.

Trunks!

It's as if my tiredness due to lack of sleep suddenly disappears, the intensity to find out if he's okay taking over my lack of motivation. Running half-naked out of my room, I stumble over one of my discarded shoes from last night and reach my kitchen. Grabbing the phone, I dial his cell and pray to God that he answers it. I have to…no, I _need_ to find out if he's okay. That he didn't end up dead or drugged somewhere.

Nervously, I tap my foot against the cool linoleum floor as I wait for him to pick up. I hear a click and my heart starts racing, hoping that he's answering the phone.

"Hi, you've reached Trunks…"

"Trunks!" I shout into the phone. "Trunks, thank god you're o…"

"Leave a message at the beep, and maybe I'll get back to you if I think it's worth my time. But if you aren't a hot, single chick, the chances of that happening are zero. Bye!"

His voicemail. His god damned voice mail. Squeezing the phone in my hand, I pinch my lips into a tight line as I wait for the beep so that I can leave him a message. As soon as I hear it, I start talking.

"Trunks, this is Goten. Please, as soon as you get this message, give me a call. I….hope everything is okay. Just please, _please_ call me!"

With that said, I hang up my phone and then slowly make my way to the futon. Flopping onto it, my sudden burst of energy disappears. Slouching sideways, I stare out my front window and frown, trying to get a handle on my emotions.

It's just that…I've never left him before. I've never felt so upset with him that I just left him to make a complete ass of himself or worse. But I did last night, and some of the thoughts that kept me awake return full force, flooding my brain with unwelcome questions as to why I would do such a thing in the first place.

Maybe you think that I'm taking this thing a little too far. I mean, he made his choice to ditch me so he could have sex with some sleeze. That should have given me the permission to leave him as well since he obviously had forgotten about me. However, I've always been the friend to watch out for him because I understand him. Or at least, I used to understand him. And I feel like I've betrayed him somehow by walking away and leaving him to his own devices in his inebriated condition.

Rubbing my forehead with my hand, I let out a deep sigh. The truth is, I was jealous. I was jealous that he picked someone else out in favor of spending time with me, even when I hadn't really wanted to go the club in the first place. And since the only thing Trunks ever does at clubs is get plastered, it should have been obvious from the beginning that he would have separated himself away from his loser friend who acts responsible and doesn't drink. I mean, what's the fun of going out to get drunk with a buddy if said buddy doesn't want to get drunk? I can't really blame him for taking off with that girl. It's stupid to be jealous over something that had nothing to do with me and everything to do with Trunks and his fixation with forgetting about reality. Even though I realize this, it doesn't make me feel any better or get rid of my feelings of resentment.

"Aw fuck it!" I grunt and bury my face in my hands.

I've got to stop fixating on him. But still…it's difficult, especially since this isn't the first time in recent history that I've wondered about the growing separation between Trunks and myself. It doesn't help matters that he can't seem to realize what seems so obvious to me.

Straightening up on my futon mattress, I make a decision to get ready for the rest of my wasted day while I wait to hear for some sign of Trunks. Standing up, I wander back into my bedroom and half-heartedly pull a pair of jeans and a T-shirt out of my disorganized closet. Putting on my clothes, I pad barefoot out into the kitchen and rummage through my refrigerator, putting together something to eat to appease my Saiyan appetite.

And then I find myself back on the futon, this time with the phone handy.

I don't know how many hours I sit on my damned futon. I don't know how many times I call and leave messages on his phone. All I get is nothing. Maybe he's pissed and now he's ignoring me. It wouldn't be the first time where we've gotten in a fight about something ridiculous. Still, it rankles me that he won't answer his phone or call me back to at least let me know that he's okay. If I could, I would lock onto his ki and figure out where the hell he decided to hole up to recover from his hangover, but I can't sense it because he's probably passed out somewhere.

Laying my head against the cushions, I close my eyes. With nothing else to do to occupy my time while I wait to hear from Trunks, my lack of sleep catches up with me. Slowly, I pass out of the waking world, drifting along on a sea of half-formed dreams. All of them seem to center around Trunks, but it's just a vague sensation that he's there amongst that strange images and colors that shift through my brain.

Suddenly, I snap back to awareness. Looking around my apartment, I realize that the day has slipped past and it's already nighttime. Turning around, I glance at my microwave clock and realize that it's almost twenty four hours since I last saw Trunks. Seeing that my answering machine isn't blinking, I know that he hasn't called me back. Growling in frustration, I pick up the phone next to me and decide to try and reach him one last time before I give into desperation and call Capsule Corporation. The thought of talking to Bulma or Vegeta about leaving Trunks when he was smashed makes butterflies flutter in my gut. I can just imagine how either one of them would act if they knew. Although the truth is, they're probably already aware how much their son spends his time hanging out at clubs and picking up girls.

Dialing his number by memory, I hear the phone ring once, twice, three times when a low and pained sounding voice whispers across the receiver into my ear.

"Hello?"

"Trunks?"

"Who else would it be? It's my fucking cell phone, moron."

I pause on the phone, letting his voice sink into my head along with a mixture of feelings ranging from relief all the way back to anger.

"You don't have to call me names." I retort back, not even sure if he knows that it's me on the other end.

"Keep it down chibi. My head…my head is pounding and I think I'm going to be sick."

His head hurts? He thinks he's going to be sick? Slowly, I can feel rage and hurt start to seep into my heart. I spent all last night worrying about him because I had left him and all he cares about his nursing is stupid hangover? I am definitely not pleased with his response.

"Listen Trunks. I don't care if you feel sick or you if have a headache. That's what you get for getting trashed at the club. Do you have any idea how worried I've been? _Do you?_" I yell into the phone, forgetting briefly my guilt in leaving him there by himself.

"Calm down chibi! What the hell is your problem? I'm a big boy and I can take care of myself. And what should it matter? If you were that worried about me, you wouldn't have taken off like you did."

Feeling my mouth hang open, I shut it with an audible click and let out a short burst of air from my nostrils. He is partially correct. I shouldn't have…I shouldn't have left him. But then again, he's partially wrong. He left me first.

"Chibi, you still there?" I hear his voice whisper over the telephone.

"Yeah," I reply after a few seconds.

"Why'd you leave me? Why'd you take off?"

I know he isn't feeling well, but there's this tone in his voice that I've never heard before. Like he's hurting deep down inside and it's slowly coming up to the surface. Swallowing uncomfortably, I wonder how he even realized I was gone. Maybe he wasn't as drunk as I had thought he was. Maybe, he hadn't left to have sex with that girl and I had jumped to all the wrong conclusions. Carefully thinking of how to phrase my answer, I wait a few seconds before replying.

"I…I thought you took off with that girl who was rubbing up and down on you and I got angry. So I left."

"Oh."

Taken aback slightly that all he tells me is 'Oh,' I shake my head in shock and then narrow my eyebrows together in a sudden burst of anger.

"Oh? Is that all you have to say? You aren't even going to explain to me where it was you disappeared? Well answer me this, _Trunks_. If my leaving upset you so much, maybe you should have thought about how your disappearance made me feel. I mean, I didn't even want to go to the club in the first place, but I went because you wanted to go and_you_ said _you_ wanted to spend time with _me_. Maybe it hasn't occurred to you, but I don't like feeling as if I'm the third wheel when you decide to go out and forget about life in the real world."

There's another long pause before I hear Trunks take in a sharp breath.

"Fuck Goten, you sound like you're jealous. Do you know how juvenile you're acting? Of course I wanted to hang out with you, but what fun is it when all you do is sulk in the corner like some depressed girl? It's disgusting."

I can't take it anymore. His words sting and the fact that he's throwing my anger and my concern back in my face pisses me off like nothing else has.

"What the hell are you saying? If you're so embarrassed, why the fuck do you want me to go along with you when you decide to get hammered? You make me so angry sometimes Trunks! You really do, and I don't even understand it. I'm not one to get angry in the first place, but you…you take it to a whole other level and you don't even realize it. I stopped liking the getting wasted shit when I figured out it wasn't fun to wake up not remembering what it was that I did. And then I realized I wasn't going to get anywhere if I kept acting like a dumb high school student. Unlike some people, I can't just live off free handouts from mommy and daddy. I have…"

He interrupts me before I can finish my outburst.

"You have what Goten? What exactly do you have? You live in a shit hole apartment. You work full time at a job you hate. And you're alone. You don't have a girlfriend, you don't socialize, and you act like you're mightier than God. Well, I've got news for you. Until you realize how pathetic you really are, don't get on your high and mighty horse in front of me. You're nothing Goten."

I can't believe he just said that. We've had plenty of fights in the past, but never, not once, has he ever pulled the comment that I am nothing. I can already feel a lump starting to form in the back of my throat. My anger is gone, only to be replaced by shame and humiliation. However, I'm not going to let him know that he's won this battle, even if his comments resonate with some of my own inadequacy compared to him. Taking a deep breath, I bite my lip and then loosen my grip on the phone before replying.

"That isn't true Trunks. I'm not nothing. I'm something and somebody, and one day, I hope you realize it too."

For the second time in twenty-four hours, I turn the phone off before he can get the last word in. Hanging up the phone, I back away slowly and run the entire horrible conversation through my head. Slumping against my kitchen counter, I cross my arms over my chest and shiver involuntarily.

I've never…been apart from Trunks. I'm suddenly afraid that this fight, which has been brewing for a while, is the end of our friendship and that makes me feel sick to my stomach. I don't understand why he has to be such an ass. And I can't believe that he thinks I'm nothing. But considering all of that, I can't believe he would wish to give up on our relationship, one that we've had since I was first born. The more I think about it, the more I'm afraid that I messed it up. That it's my fault we're in such a shitty situation.

God Goten, you really fucked up.

With that thought in my head, I slump to the kitchen floor and cry.

_Yeah, the tone is a little bit angsty, but it's going to be rough and rocky ride for Goten and Trunks. After all, Goten said that finding love is never easy and fixing a changing relationship can be a difficult experience. I hope you still are enjoying it. Please leave me a review if you would like!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ or any of it's characters_

_Chapter 3_

Today, my life has gone from bad to worse. Sometimes you wonder to yourself, how bad could things really be? How fucked up could life actually get? And those people that spend their entire lives bitching about how unfair things are, do they even have a clue? Well, let me tell you, there is some validity to those blanket statements, which claim that life isn't always a bed of roses. And I can say that I have become a believer.

Staring at my boss, I want to punch him in the face. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm generally a laid back kind of guy and the thought of physically harming someone weaker than myself isn't the usual thought that crosses through my mind. Sometimes, however, there are certain individuals that bring my Saiyan nature roaring through my veins and Mr. Nezumi is one of those special people who possess that certain talent.

"What's wrong Goten? Cat got your tongue? You look…perplexed."

Sitting in his hot, stuffy office that smells like overripe sashimi, I try to school my features so he doesn't realize how upset he is making me at the moment. Letting out a deep breath, I move forward on the cheap olive green polyester chair that he lets clients and employees use when meeting with him. The man reeks of dishonesty and any number of things that point to making a quick and inexpensive buck, of which I have become overly familiar with over the months I have worked for him in sales. Today, I tell myself, is the last straw. Today, I'm going to give him back all the misery he's put me through as I try to make a living working in his tacky, used car lot.

"Um, Saturday you say?" I ask, wincing internally when I realize how pussified I sound.

"Why yes. That's exactly what I said, my boy. You've done rather well this quarter and Nezumi's Auto Emporium thanks you for your effort and dedication. There are few employees who I think of as highly as I do you, Goten. However, I need you to work this Saturday. I know I told you I'd give it to you for a holiday, but something's come up. So just show up at your regular work time. I mean, I'm sure I don't have to clue you in on the details. It's not like you haven't worked a Saturday before."

And with that, he turns his skinny, mustached face away from me as he dismisses me and pulls out a cigar from behind his Formica topped desk. Standing up slowly, I make my way out of his office and out into the sweltering heat of the summer. Slinking past two other employees as they try to sell the junk Nezumi foists off on the general public, I leave my place of employment feeling angry over the fact that I once again didn't stand up for myself. Instead, I let my good work history pull me into covering for somebody just because I'm the kind of guy who doesn't know how to say the word 'no.'

Why? Why do I keep doing this to myself? Not only with work, but with everyone else in my life as well. If somebody would ask me to jump, I'd do it. If somebody asked me to fly up to the top of Capsule Corporation's main office building and moon West City, I'd probably do that as well. Thrusting my hands into my pockets, I head down the street and end up at the corner bus stop. Parking myself on a bench, I wait for the city transit to arrive, thankful that there aren't many people sitting next to me. In fact, I'm the only one at the bus stop. I can brood over my pansy behavior in solitude until the bus arrives and I have to deal with what most people consider to be the scum of West City. It's funny how I sort of fit into that mold as well.

Sitting in silence, I try my best to ignore the sweat dripping down my face and neck as it stains my white shirt while I wait for the bus. Thankfully, the bus is on time and my waiting is reduced to less than five minutes. Stepping onto the bus, I pay the fair and take a seat near the front, away from the other patrons taking advantage of the cheap transportation. Gazing out the window, I watch as buildings and people slide past. Everything always seems to look so much better than it actually is, like there's this layer of paint covering the imperfections that make up the majority of the world. Frowning slightly, I close my eyes and try to think of happy thoughts to get rid of this ever-deepening sense of despair that's started to seep into my bones. Ever since that night out with Trunks a few weeks ago, and maybe even before then, I've had this feeling that my life is nothing more than a joke for someone else's entertainment. Well, I hate feeling sorry for myself, but it's hard to be happy when everything seems to be spinning out of my control.

I jerk my eyes open when I feel the bus brake suddenly. Looking out the window, I realize that I'm already at my stop. Standing up quickly, I make my way to the door and wait for the driver to open it. Stepping out onto the curb, I pull my keys out of my pocket and walk the half-block to my apartment flat. In less then a minute, I'm there, standing in front of my door as I push the key into the lock and open the door.

My eyes adjust to the dim light as step inside my humble abode. Kicking aside an old pizza box, I shuffle inside and walk over to the air conditioner, turning it up to high. Feeling too tired to even bother with taking a shower, I pull my shirt off and throw it on the floor before I stumble over to my futon and flop down on top of it. Dealing with cranky customers, an egotistical bastard for a boss, and the pressure to sell something that's nothing more than a piece of crap takes its toll out of me. I'm tired. I'm bored. And I hate the direction my life seems to be headed in.

Staring up at the ceiling, I find myself examining a crack in the tile. It seems to wind across in various directions, mimicking how I've been feeling of late. That I'm not in control and somebody else is. That I don't have what it takes to get out of the rut I'm in. That I'm not meant to be a success at anything. I know I sound pathetic to you, but just try to understand where I'm coming from.

My best friend has ditched me. My boss perpetually uses my reliability as an excuse to cut my vacation, my work weekends, and my holidays so his slacker employees can have the time off (and he hasn't paid me any of the bonuses he promised me). And on top of everything else, I don't think I have the skills necessary to move up in the world. I don't know what to do except that I've come to the realization that I can't keep living like this. Although, thinking of how to change it all is depressing because I don't even know where to start and I'm not about to come crawling back to Trunks in order to beg him to let me take up on his offer to work as his assistant. I know that's just what he'd want, me to come back begging for forgiveness and a place in his own messed up life. Well, I may be a number one pansified idiot, but I do have my pride when it comes to certain things.

Groaning to myself, I sink farther into the cushions of my futon. It's too hard to think right now. Closing my eyes, I push my misery to the side and let the cool air from my air conditioner blow across my body. In no time at all, my eyelids feel heavy and I start to move into sleep. Deep down inside, I know that it isn't normal for me to be spending so much time holed in my apartment sleeping when I get home from work. I just don't have the energy to motivate myself to go and do something, and without Trunks around to cajole me into going out, it's just easier to come home and pass out. I know it's a pretty boring existence, and maybe that's why I've come to the conclusion that I really need a change in my life. But if you've ever felt the way I do, you probably can understand just how hard it is to be motivated when there is no clear path laid out for you, especially if you don't have a high amount of self-confidence to bolster you when things really start to get rough.

Slowly but surely, I fall into oblivion, and with that oblivion comes the dreams that have haunted me for a while. Dreams of a happy future, where everything is clear and the secret desires I hold deep within my heart can finally come out into the open. Where those desires won't be ridiculed or be called stupid by the ones who know me best. Where my best friend can finally realize how much the way he talks to me and the way he acts around me hurts and cuts deep into my heart. But whom am I kidding? Even in my fucked up dreams, I know that those things won't ever happen and I'm just fooling myself.

Shaking myself out of the stupor I'm in, I snap my eyes open and stare blankly at the ceiling once again. There's dampness at the corners of my eyes and I chuckle bitterly over the fact that I've started to cry in my sleep. God, I'm becoming even more pathetic than _I_ thought was possible.

Sitting up slowly, I stretch my arms over my head and then scratch my head. Looking out the window, I can tell the sun is starting to set because of the lengthening shadows and the deepening colors of the sky. With that comes the realization that I'm hungry. Rubbing my stomach, it gurgles incessantly. Standing up, I move into my kitchen and pull open the refrigerator, only to be welcomed with moldy bread and some watery looking bologna. Groaning to myself, I realize that I had forgotten to go to the grocery store after work. Well, it isn't really any wonder that I forgot, considering that fact that I was pissed at my boss and myself.

Slamming the door shut, I lean against the cool, white surface of the refrigerator debating whether or not I should go grocery shopping for if I should order take out for the night. I'm about to come to a decision when a very distinct rapping noise comes from my front door. Immediately, my heart starts to race as I think that it could be Trunks coming to ask for forgiveness. Instead, common sense takes over and I slowly walk over to where the pounding is getting louder the longer I take to answer the door. It isn't Trunks, that much I'm sure about. I know he's not the type to come begging for forgiveness, and since it's been almost three weeks since our fight and I haven't seen or heard from him, I know it will be a long time before he decides to forgive me or ask for it in return.

Reaching the door, I swing it open and squint my eyes, trying to adjust to the brightness coming from outside.

"Yeah? What do you want?"

"Goten?"

That's all the warning I get before I find myself pushed back into my apartment, enveloped in a strangling bear hug. Sputtering slightly, I start to feel as though all the air in my body is being squeezed out. Coming to reality, I immediately shove at my attacker, pushing them off of me before I lose my balance and fall to the floor, landing with a hard thump on my ass. Looking up dazedly, the first thing I notice is that my visitor is wearing a navy blue polyester suit that has to be stifling in the summer heat. The second thing I notice is that I know my visitor, but it takes me a second for my eyes to adjust to the light streaming into my apartment from outside compared to the darkness within.

"Gohan? What're you doing here?"

Before answering me, he bends over and extends his hand, which I grab immediately. Being hoisted upward, I find myself face to face with my geeky older brother who, by the looks of him, just came from his office job. Brushing off my work khakis, I step back slightly and cross my arms over my bare chest, squirming slightly under the intensity of his eyes.

"Why do you think Goten? I'm worried…we're all worried about you. It's like you've turned invisible or something and that just isn't like you."

With that said, he backs away and flips on the overhead light before closing the door behind him. Turning back around, his eyes sweep across my messy apartment before landing back on me.

"Have you ever heard of cleaning? It looks like a landfill in here."

Growling slightly, I give him the finger before flopping back down on my futon. Fishing for the remote control, I find it and then flip on the TV, pretending to ignore him. It doesn't last very long though. Gohan can be persistent when he wants to be, and since he has the added experience of having a kid of his own, not to mention the fact that he practically raised me when I was a little squirt, he knows how to push his authority around. He easily blocks my small TV screen and then deftly shuts it off without taking his eyes off of me.

"Uh, uh Goten. Pretending I'm not here isn't going to make me go away. You and I need to talk."

Crossing my arms, I glare at him before giving into defeat. I don't want to talk to him about stuff; but then again, he's always had this ability to help me see through things when they seem really tough or really hard. He's probably the best example of an older brother that anyone could wish for. Even though I don't always want to tell him the happenings in my life or the inner workings of my brain, I know when I need someone to talk to, he's always been there to listen to me and help me figure things out.

Slumping backwards against the cushions, I wait for him to move some dirty socks off of the cheap recliner I salvaged from the street curb and sit down.

"What is going on Goten? I know you've sort of become…reclusive, but this is becoming extreme. Have you even bothered to look at your answering machine? Mom's been trying to get a hold of you for close to three weeks. You know how she gets. She tried to get Dad to IT here to knock some sense into you, but he said that you were probably just going through a phase and he didn't want to bother you. Well, I don't know if you are going through a phase, but it's not like you to continue to ignore your family for this long. Besides, Trunks has been asking about you too. I don't know what happened, but he's worried just about as much as I am."

Sitting up straighter, I'm surprised at his information about Trunks.

"He's worried about me?"

Warily, Gohan scratches the back of his head before answering.

"Yeah, I guess. He came around the other day asking if I'd talked to you. He said you hadn't been answering your phone. I know you sometimes ignore Mom because, let's face it, she can be annoying. But it isn't like you to ignore Trunks too, so that's why I decided to pay a visit and figure out what's up with you."

Looking down at my lap, I can feel shame winding it's way through my body. This entire time, I'd been so depressed and self centered about the misery in my own life, I hadn't figured Trunks would actually make a move to apologize first. Letting out a deep breath, I make a decision to let my brother in on the secret misery of my pathetic life.

"Trunks…Trunks and I had a falling out a few weeks back. I ditched him at a club and then we got into a huge argument over the phone and I thought I really fucked things up with him. He said I was pathetic and I guess I've been living up to his image of me since then. But it is true Gohan. I _am_ a real loser."

"So just because you think you're a loser, you've been avoiding everybody? That's pretty sad Goten."

Looking at Gohan and the unsympathetic expression on his face, I feel completely humiliated in front of him. He is right, it is pretty sad to use my own attitude about myself as a means to avoid everyone else. But sometimes, it's just easier to ignore the happiness everyone else seems to be a part of when I feel like shit. That way, it doesn't hurt as much.

"Look Gohan, you just try living my life and see how you feel at the end of the day. Especially when your best friend tells you you're a pathetic loser and doesn't ever seem to try and understand how hard I'm trying to make it on my own and prove that I can do it! And you're just like him in a lot of ways, Gohan. You're a fucking genius! Everybody loves you! You're married to the daughter of one of the richest guys on the planet, and it's always seemed like you've gotten things on a silver platter. Hell, I know you went through some really rough times too, but compared to you and especially compared to Trunks, I don't even rate on the scale of worthiness. No matter how much I tell myself that I'm somebody and I'm going to make something of myself, I really feel like I'm nobody and I'm never going to be anything."

Clenching my knees with my hands, I try not to break down in front of him, but three weeks of self-imposed agony have taken their toll on me. Blinking my eyes shut, I can feel tears start to slide down my cheeks which only adds to my humiliation over how weak I am. Gohan, though. He knows me better than anyone, even Trunks and without any encouragement from me, he moves over next to me and puts his arm around my bare shoulders, giving me a good squeeze.

"First things first Goten. You aren't a loser and I highly doubt that Trunks thinks of you like that. Sure, he probably said those words because he was angry with you, but I know he realizes how hard you work to prove you can do things on your own in your own way. I know it's hard, living up the standards set by your family. I mean, for years, I grew up in the shadow of how great our father was, what a savior he became. And I just felt like some stupid kid who didn't know anything and would let everybody down. You'll find your own path Goten, and when you do, you'll stop worrying about where you compare with everyone else."

"Yeah, but that's just it!" I yell at him in frustration. "I have no idea what path it is I'm supposed to follow! I feel like I'm stuck in some kind of limbo, where everyone else is moving ahead while I just sit and watch."

Wiping my eyes, I grab the Kleenex Gohan suddenly offers me and blow my nose loudly into it.

"And to make everything worse, it just seems like Trunks and I are growing apart. I feel like I'm nothing more than his babysitter and that he doesn't want to grow up and have a reality check. And unlike me, he has the choice over whether or not he needs to be responsible."

Sniffing slightly, I throw my wadded up tissue to the floor, ignoring the disgusted look on Gohan's face. Seriously, finally having that all off my chest makes me feel like I can breath again, but it doesn't lessen my frustration or give me any clear picture as to what it is I should do. I think Gohan realizes this because he stands up and heads over to my telephone, gingerly stepping over the garbage and dirty clothes that have accumulated throughout my apartment.

"What are you doing?" I ask him as he picks up the phone and starts dialing a number.

"First, I'm calling Videl to let her know I'm not going to be home for supper. Not that she'll really mind. And secondly, I'm calling Wu's Noodles for take out. I'm starved, and eating always helps me to think better. So while we're waiting for food, why don't you go clean up? I mean, you seriously smell like something died. And while you're doing that, I'm going to start cleaning up this mess. I don't know how you can live in it on a day to day basis."

Grumbling slightly to myself, I mouth off 'Yes mother,' while his back is turned as he talks into the telephone before following his directions. Sometimes, I think Gohan would make a better wife than a husband.

Within ten minutes, I'm showered. Pulling on a pair of boxers, I don't even bother to put on anymore clothes before stepping back into my living room. True to his word, Gohan's been busy cleaning and the pizza boxes and dirty clothes that had been occupying the floor are all neatly picked up. Jumping over the futon, I sit on it and try to find the remote once again.

Looking around, I can hear Gohan rummaging around in my bedroom.

"Hey Gohan, where did you put the remote?" I yell at him from where I'm seated.

His reply is muffled. Most likely, he's doing something sissified like cleaning out my closet. He has the odd habit of doing strange things like that, and it's only gotten worse the longer he's been married to Videl. I used to laugh with Trunks over how Videl wears the pants in Gohan's relationship with her, but the truth is, she's lucky to have such a great guy like him. And I'm lucky that he's my brother because when it all comes down to it, he genuinely cares about my well being more so than anyone else does.

Shaking my head slightly, I yell back at him again.

"What did you say? I couldn't hear you."

"I said, I threw it in the garbage can. And I asked you were it is you keep your vacuum cleaner."

Jumping about a foot in the air, I quickly regain my equilibrium and spin around, giving Gohan a hateful look for scaring the shit out of me.

"Fuck Gohan, don't scare me like that! And you threw out my remote control? Why'd you do something as stupid as that?"

He just shrugs his shoulders before he wanders over to the door where he dropped his briefcase. Picking it up, he brings it over to the futon and sits next to me, placing it on the coffee table before snapping it open and grabbing a tablet of paper and a pen.

Glaring at him for ignoring my concern, my slight anger slowly dissolves into curiosity.

"What are you doing Gohan? I thought you wanted to know where I keep my vacuum?"

He nods his head thoughtfully before he takes his pen and sticks it behind his ear.

"Yeah, I wanted to know but I realized that you probably don't even have one. Anyway, while we wait for the takeout to arrive, I'm going to help you come up with a plan to get you out of this rut you seem to be in. And you're going to promise to follow through with it, understand?"

Nodding my head in agreement, I fiddle with my thumbs while he makes a table of sorts. He's always been a linear thinker and in reference to his nerdiness, I think he has to make everything as neat and organized as he can, including his notes. In that respect, we're complete opposites.

"Okay, first of all Goten, do you like your job in sales?"

"No, I fucking hate it. Okay, I'm decent at it, but my boss is an ass and I don't feel like going into the nitty-gritty about what it is that _makes_ him an ass."

Gohan grins at me sheepishly before scratching his head with his pen and then scribbling something down on his pad of paper.

"Okay, I kind of figured that out already. Have you looked at getting a different job?"

Shaking my head yes, he asks me what kind of companies I've been applying for and if there have been any tangible results. Leaning backwards, I cross by arms behind my head, trying to come up with an answer that doesn't make me look foolish.

"Well, the only thing I have experience in is sales, so I've applied for sales jobs with companies like Centrix and Vastio, the two main competitors with Capsule. But I haven't heard anything from them and my communications degree isn't very marketable. It just feels…hopeless, like I'll be stuck selling used cars for Mr. Nezumi for the rest of my natural existence."

"Did you call any of those companies back to inquire about your application? You've got to keep hounding them Goten, otherwise they'll figure you aren't really interested in the position you applied for. And if you can sell used cars with the amount of success you have, especially considering who it is you work for, I don't see why those companies wouldn't be interested in you. But I don't think that's the underlying problem."

Rolling my eyes, I ask him what it is that he thinks the problem is.

"I think you don't like sales. Honestly, I was surprised when you took that job to begin with. You're just…you're just an all around nice guy Goten, and I don't think your personality really coincides with the blood thirsty and highly competitive aspect of sales. Now, I know you probably don't want to hear it, but that's the truth."

Shifting downward into the cushions, I frown slightly. The truth is, I know he's exactly right. The only reason I took that job was because I needed one that made a decent amount of money. And it was a _real_ job, not like the one I had while I worked my way through community college as a recreation assistant for the local boys and girls club. In all honesty, I had actually really enjoyed working for the boys and girls club. It was much more my style than selling cars, except that it made much less money and Trunks would constantly make fun of how sissy the job was, coming up with games and playing with kids all day when I wasn't at school.

"Yeah, you're right. I don't like sales at all, but what else am I qualified to do?"

I can see the wheels turning inside Gohan's head as he brings his pen to his mouth and starts sucking on it. After a couple of minutes, he takes it out and starts to write something down on his pad of paper when the door bell rings, announcing the arrival of our food. I'm about to stand when he pushes me back into my futon and gets up, brushing off his pants and extracting his wallet as he makes his way over to the door and opens it.

The transaction only takes a few minutes, and before I know it, the two of us are chowing down on Wu's delicious homemade noodles. In less than five minutes, the numerous containers of noodles and sliced meat are empty as Gohan and I just sit, letting our bellies expand with the food we were in desperate need of.

"Ahh, that was great! Much better than Videl's cooking any day."

Looking over at him, I smirk before punching him in the shoulder, earning a laugh in return.

"No wonder you didn't want to go home for dinner if you think so poorly of your wife's cooking skills. But if I were you, I wouldn't ever tell her that you think she's a bad cook."

"Nah, she's not bad. I mean, at least she doesn't burn everything she cooks anymore. But Wu's…I haven't had his noodles in years. That's what happens when you choose to live in the middle of nowhere."

With that said, we both get up and start cleaning up the mess from our gluttonous feast. Pulling a garbage bag out from under the sink, I hold it open as Gohan stuffs the containers and chopsticks inside. Once everything is cleared away, I close up the bag and throw it on the pile that Gohan had started when he had been cleaning my apartment before moving back to the futon where Gohan is already seated, writing something on his pad of paper.

"So Goten, what do you like? What are you good at, besides selling used cars?"

I think about his questions for a minute or so while I pick at the lint on my boxer shorts. What do I like? What am I good at? I want to tell him that I'm not really good at anything and my likes are too insignificant to count, but I know that Gohan won't accept those statements as good enough answers. Closing my eyes, I just start listing off things that come to mind.

"Martial arts, eating, watching TV, goofing around, Trunks…"

"Okay, stop. While those are things you like, I don't think you really understand what it is I'm asking Goten. What does liking Trunks have to do with figuring out what you want to do with your life? Or eating and watching TV? Maybe I should just rephrase the question. How about this: If you could go back to school and become something else, what would you want to become?"

I don't even really think before I blurt out an answer and I'm surprised at what my mind spits out. It's something I'd never really considered before, even though some of my past experiences should have sort of pointed me in that direction.

"A teacher."

I don't think Gohan was expecting that, and in all honesty, I wasn't expecting to have that come out of my mouth. I mean, me, a teacher? You have to be really smart to teach other people stuff and I've never considered myself to be very bright. I struggled through community college, and if it hadn't been for Gohan and Trunks tutoring me in some of the areas I struggled with, I probably wouldn't have made it out of there with a B average. Still, growing up, I had helped teach martial arts at the local dojo near where I lived, and then I had that job planning and carrying out activities with the kids at the boys and girls club. And both of those things, I had really enjoyed them and it wasn't hard for me to do.

"Really Goten? Because you know, I think you'd be good at that sort of thing. You have much more patience when it comes to dealing with getting others to understand things than I ever did. And since I know school wasn't exactly easy for you, that kind of history helps build you into a better teacher because you understand where your students are coming from when they have a problem. However, you know what that means, if you're really serious?"

Well, I don't know if I was really serious about it or not. All I know is that I really need a change and part of that change means finding something fulfilling in my life, something I can be proud about doing. Something that doesn't involve swindling the general public of their hard earned money.

Scratching my chest I glance over to where he's sitting as he carefully watches me while sucking on his damn pen.

"No, I don't really know what that means. It just sort of blurted out of my mouth. It doesn't really mean anything."

"Goten, you wouldn't have said if it wasn't something you secretly wanted. And there isn't anything to be ashamed about, wanting to be a teacher. It doesn't mean you're a nerd or geek, if that's what you're worried about. It just means you like working with young people. But it also means you're going to have to go back to school. I don't know much about teaching programs, but once I get home, I'll surf the web and get some ideas to give you when you come over for my birthday party tomorrow."

Looking at him, I can feel my face starting to heat. I know it's Gohan's birthday party and I had originally been scheduled to get that day off. However, because of a certain jerk, that isn't going to be happening.

"Look, Gohan…about tomorrow. I…I can't make it. I asked for the day off a while back, but Nezumi decided to change the schedule at the last minute today because he fired someone and now I have to cover. It's just another shitty reason why I currently hate my life and my job."

I can tell he's disappointed but his face suddenly firms as he pinches his lips together in a tight line.

"Quit, Goten. What have you got to lose? I'm normally not the kind of person who would advocate such drastic measures, but why keep on with a job you hate and a boss who can't honor his promises? I think it's time for you to take the plunge Goten."

I know he's right, but I don't like the thought of not being able to pay my rent or utilities because I suddenly find myself without an income. And I'm not about to grovel up to Trunks and beg for a job while I try to figure out what it is that I want to do with my life.

"I plan on quitting, but just up and doing it tomorrow, what am I supposed to do in the mean time, Gohan? I've got bills to pay and while I have a some money saved up, I don't know how long it would last if I don't have something coming in to supplement it. So, sorry bro, but I'm not going to be able to make it tomorrow. I'll try to come over in the evening, but I'll miss out on the party."

I can tell that he's disappointed, but he shakes his head in understanding as he puts his paper and pen back inside his briefcase. Once that's accomplished, he slowly stands up and makes his way towards the door. Standing in front of it, he turns back towards where I'm still seated on the futon in my underwear.

"I…I'm not going to pretend that I'm not disappointed, but I can understand where you're coming from Goten. You've become…responsible, and with responsibility comes making some tough decisions and not being able to always do the things that you want to do. You're a good guy Goten, and I don't want to hear or see you talking down about yourself again, got that? And if Trunks acts like an ass, go over and beat some sense into him. I don't think he realizes how much the things he says to you affect your decisions…and your happiness. Just make sure you come in the evening. I'll have information for you and a plan of action ready to go."

Pulling myself out of the futon, I nod my head in agreement and then walk over to the doorway. Wrapping my arms around Gohan, I give him a hug that conveys how much I really appreciate his visiting me and trying to help me find my way out of my crappy situation.

"Thanks Gohan."

Letting go, I back away slightly and I take in his goofy grin, the one we both inherited from our father.

"Hey, no problem. That's what big brothers are for. Just…get some sleep and come over when you get done selling cars. Oh, and if you get the chance, I'd call up that boys and girls club you worked at and see if they have a full time position open. It wouldn't hurt, you know."

With that said, he opens the door and leaves my apartment, taking off into the sky as he heads home in the deepening evening.

Closing the door behind me, I walk over to the kitchen sink and open the tap. Sticking my head underneath the running water, I take in few swallows before shutting it off and leaning against the counter.

At least after talking with Gohan, my life doesn't seem to be heading in a continuing downward spiral, although I know if I decide to go back to school, or even if I decide to quit my job and work at the boys and girls club, things aren't going to get any easier right away. And then there is Trunks. If what Gohan said was true, than it seems it would be up to me to fix things between us. However, deep down inside my gut, I know that even if we make up with each other, he won't understand this need for me to figure out what it is that I'm meant to do. And he won't be content until he figures out why I've started to become jealous over the time he spends with other people, namely other females. I know I'm not prepared to delve into that arena of questioning because in all honesty, even I haven't completely tried to answer that question. The truth can be a scary thing and sometimes, it's easier to bury and avoid it than confront it.

With that final thought in my mind, I leave the kitchen and head to my bedroom to take up Gohan's advice and get a good night's rest before I have to get up and face another awful day.

_Sorry that there wasn't any Trunks in this chapter. He'll be in the next one for sure. I hope the flow of this chapter goes along with what I've written so far, and I hope you don't think I'm crazy for envisioning Goten as a teacher. He kind of reminds me of Umino Iruka from Naruto, so I could see him being an elementary teacher, or something of the sort. And he needs a confidence booster. Please let me know what you think with a review. I really, really appreciate them._


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: All characters and original concepts for Dragon Ball Z belong to Toriyama Akira. I'm just using the characters for a little bit of writing fun._

_Chapter 4_

I have to admit that Gohan's pep talk yesterday did me a lot of good, at least for the short term. Even though I had to get up to go and spend Saturday selling used cars for a guy that I can't stand, the day went remarkably fast. Maybe it's because I knew that I had what was left of Gohan's birthday celebration to look forward to. Or maybe it was because I knew that Gohan would have some sort of plan sketched out for my future life. Whatever the case, before I knew it, I was locking up the dealership and in the air, flying as fast as I could for my parent's home on the outskirts of civilization.

Lost in thought about what Gohan's possible plans might entail, it takes considerably less time than I thought it would before Mount Pazou looms into sight, and with it, my parent's and Gohan's homes. The sun is already starting its descent, and for a second, it hides behind the mountain before peeking over its edge. Even though I'm about a mile off, I can sniff out the undisputable scent of roasting meat and charcoal. Evidently, I'm not too late to partake in the summer barbecue that my brother always has for his birthday.

Powering down, I land a few feet away from the house I grew up in and wander around to the back were there is no mistaking the voices of friends and family I've known for most of my entire life.

Slipping around the rounded corner of the capsule house, there is a sudden stilling of voices when the people present on the old patio stop talking and glance over towards me, taking stock of the intruder. Feeling self-conscious underneath everybody's staring, my face heats up slightly and I find myself nervously scratching the back of my head, a trait that seems to be present in all males of the Son family.

"Uh…hey everybody! Wh…what's up?"

As soon as the words are uttered out of my mouth, everybody starts talking at once.

"Goten, honey!"

"Goten, glad you could make it!"

"Goten, you have a lot of explaining to do! I can't believe you wouldn't…"

"Chi-Chi! Just leave him alone, 'kay?"

Raising my hands above my head, everyone quiets down.

"Look, sorry if I worried people 'cause I wasn't answering my phone. I've just been…been busy with work and stuff. So in case you were wondering, I'm fine and things are great in my life. But this is supposed to be Gohan's birthday barbecue, not interrogate Goten time. So just chillax."

I can see immediately that my mother isn't pleased, but when is she ever? Thankfully, my dad puts a hand on her arm, which keeps her from running forward to either attack me with questions or with the fork she's holding tightly in her hands. I wince to think exactly what she might do with the fork if she's provoked enough. The last thing I want is to be poked full of holes. Anyway, besides my mother, everybody else starts talking to one another as I awkwardly make my way over to the picnic table.

Looking around, I am sort of surprised by how many people are still hanging around. But then again, it's like the annual get together of my dad's old friends come to celebrate my brother's birthday. And when all of the old Z-fighters meet up with one another, they spend their time telling ancient, rehashed tales of their adventures like old people, letting their stories spin into the evening hours. Of course, they _are_ getting old. Thankfully, the only ones left still conversing are my mom, my dad, Gohan, Videl, Piccolo, Bulma, Bra, and Vegeta, who's standing a good five feet from everyone else leaning against the patio door.

Pulling aside an empty chair, I sit down, edging myself away from everyone while I watch Gohan make me up a plate of food before bringing it over.

"How was work?"

Grunting, I take the plate from him and start eating, nodding my head in thanks. I don't want to talk about 'work.' It'd just be a waste of my time to explain the monotony of my day to him, and anyone else listening in to the conversation.

"Well, when you're done eating, why don't you come over to my place for a bit before Mom reels you in for a beating and then an explanation over your lack of communication."

Shaking my head in understanding and gratitude that he's willing to skip out of his own party to help me avoid our mother and to give me some more of his usually helpful guidance, I stuff half a hamburger in my mouth and chew as he backs away over to Videl. After a few minutes of concentrated eating, my plate is clean. Standing up slowly, I catch Gohan's eye and the two of us start to make our way towards his home which is right across from our parent's place. We only make it about five feet when our mother catches on to what we are doing.

"Gohan and Goten! Just where exactly do the two of you think you're going? Need I remind you Gohan, that this is _your_ party? And you just got here Goten! We haven't seen you or heard from you in weeks young man!"

Stopping in our tracks, we both wince at her caustic voice, turning around slightly to see her wielding a spatula from the grill as though she's about to attack us. Everyone else at the picnic table has gone completely still, except for Vegeta, whose smirk over our misfortune of being caught is more than obvious. Opening my mouth to explain the situation, I'm stopped when Gohan puts a restraining hand on my shoulder and turns to face her, looking as though he's prepared to go to battle.

"Mom, we're just stopping over at my place for less than twenty minutes and we'll be right back. So put the spatula over by the grill and enjoy your friends' company. In all honesty, you won't even miss the two of us."

Now everybody is in on the conversation, their eyes peering curiously between both Gohan and my mother to see what sort of confrontation is going to occur. In my head, I have this idea that they're all putting down wagers to see whether my mother or my brother will back down first.

Surprisingly, it's my mother who relents.

"Fine. Twenty minutes. That is all. If you aren't back, I'm going over and dragging you both here by your hair."

With that said, she turns around and stomps over to my dad, smacking him in the back of the head with her spatula when she sees him exchanging a few zeni with Bulma. Apparently, my thought about the wager was dead on. I try to contain a laugh when he rubs his head and cowers under her very vicious looking glare. Not for the first time I wonder how the strongest man in the universe can be so controlled by a woman as physically weak as my mother. Shuddering, I realize that that is one of the reasons I still have no desire to be married, even when it feels as though my lack of companionship is part of what has been dragging my life down as of late. Shaking off my morose thoughts, I grin over at Gohan and move my head towards his home.

"Ready to go, brave warrior?"

"Shut up Goten."

Not saying anything more to one another, we pad across the freshly cut grass and step inside Gohan's more spacious home. Following him to his study, he motions for me to sit on the other side of his desk while he rummages around for something, bringing out his pad of paper and pen from yesterday and a stack of papers that he didn't have the day before. Looking at the sheer size of it, my eyes literally pop out of my forehead.

"Holy fucking shit Gohan! What the hell is all that paper? You can't expect me to read all of that, can you?"

No doubt my reaction amuses him because he chuckles slightly before adjusting his glasses and taking a seat across from me.

"You don't have to read through all of it, if you don't want to. I just went a little crazy this morning searching for options for you. So here's the game plan."

With that said, he pushes his pad of paper over to me. Glancing at his spidery handwriting, I give him a questioning look.

"And what exactly is this?"

"It's a plan of action. The paper stack is just details you can read at your own leisure. But this…this is the important part. You want to go back to school to become a teacher, right?"

Well, I am still trying to digest the fact that for some reason, of all possible career options, that one popped out of my mouth last night. Truthfully, the idea has kept circulating through my mind, but the reality of quitting my job and going back to school is a pretty frightening idea, especially for one such as myself who struggled through all the education I've received up to this point.

"Look Gohan, no offense, but I don't really know if this is such a good idea. Sure, it would be great to go back to school and make myself more marketable, but I don't have money to pay for it and I'm…I'm not smart enough to be a teacher."

I watch as my brother's usually open and candid face slowly loses its smile of anticipation and turns into a rather menacing frown. Nervously, I rub my bare arms briefly, waiting for his response.

"That is enough Goten! What did I tell you about talking bad about yourself? You are smart enough to be what ever it is that you want to be, as long as you have the drive to succeed! And for the last and final time, you aren't stupid! Sure, school wasn't easy for you, but you worked hard and made it not only through secondary school, but through college as well! If you can do it once, you can certainly do it again. Now look at the plan, read it, and tell me what you think without uttering the words dumb or stupid."

Slouching uncomfortably back in his office chair, I humbly take the note pad proffered to me and try to decipher his handwriting so I can have an honest idea and opinion about what it details. After a few minutes, I'm finished reading it, sliding it back across to Gohan. We sit in silence before he clears his throat, a strange look of nervousness poking out from his dark eyes as he fidgets with a pen.

"So…what do you think?"

"Graduate school Gohan? I've never…I haven't ever thought about going beyond my bachelor's degree. Don't you think that's a little extreme?"

I can tell he's irritated because he lets out a sigh before putting his glasses down to rub the bridge of his nose.

"If it's because you don't think you can handle the rigorous nature of a post-baccalaureate degree, get that thought out of your head right now."

Shrugging, I try to clarify the thoughts racing through my head. Quite honestly, I find it flattering that Gohan thinks so highly of my educational abilities, but on the other hand, I find his plan to be a little on the absurd side.

"No…It's not 'cause I think I can't do it, but it was hard enough going to community college and working full-time. I'd have to quite, or work part time, and no offense to anybody, but the thought of having to move back in with mom and dad is just a little bit embarrassing."

"No one says you have to move back in with mom and dad. There is such a thing as financial aid you know, and besides that, if you look at the program I found, you'll see that it's suited for adult learners just like you."

Glancing down at the paper, I scan through his handwriting trying to find exactly what it is that he's telling me.

"Night classes?"

Setting the paper down in my lap, I look up and settle my eyes on his face.

"Yeah, night classes. You only take one or two a semester and they meet at night, so you can work during the day. And if you do that, you'll be done in about two years, which is less time than it took you to finish college the first time. And on top of that, this program is through West City University, so you wouldn't have to move or fly long distances to get to class."

He seems very satisfied with his information and I can tell that he's put a lot of thought into it, but that doesn't dissuade the swirling sensation of queasiness in my gut. Part of me really wants to try what he's got planned, but the scared part of my sub-conscious is telling me that it's too much of a risk and I'll be exposing myself to ridicule from my family and my friends, especially Trunks. I mean, what would he think of his dear old friend putting himself through school to become a teacher, of all things? If he thought I was a sissy when I worked for the boys and girls club, he'll definitely think I'm a sissy for wanting to teach bratty children. However, I also don't want to disappoint Gohan, so I try to think of some way that will make the sting of rejection over his idea less apparent.

"Umm…sounds great…."

Before I can finish he interrupts me.

"But?"

Glancing upwards, I notice his hands as they fidget with his pen while he gives me a look that clearly says I'm not getting out of his idea so easily. Letting out a deep sigh, I lean back in my chair and finish the sentence I was going to start.

"But…wouldn't it make more sense for me to just go back to regular college, if I really want to pursue being a teacher? I mean, I don't even know for sure if that's what I want."

Of course, he's got an answer ready that fields my thoughts back into his camp.

"So find a job that would let you work with kids and quit working for your masochistic boss. And while you're working, apply for this program and see if you get admitted. If you do and you decide that teaching isn't for you, we'll figure something else out. It doesn't hurt to try Goten, and sometimes, I get this feeling that you're just plain afraid to take risks. Whatever happened to the little squirt who was eager to fight against Buu?"

Sitting up straighter, I growl at him and his thoughts about being afraid. But the honest truth is that he's right. I am afraid, but that fear has nothing to do with possibly failing. Instead, it has everything to do with making the right choices so I don't look like a fucking idiot in front of my best friend whose opinions, no matter how stupid or ridiculous they are, matter more than anyone else's.

"That isn't it at all!" I shout, feeling frustrated that he's one hundred percent correct.

"Then why aren't you seriously considering it Goten? Last night, you were ready for a change. I could sense that about you. And I still think you are, but for once, stop considering what people are going to think about you. Instead, think about your situation and how it could benefit by doing something that you truly want instead of doing what you think everyone expects of you. Shake up the world Goten! There are so many possibilities smacking you in the face, all you have to do is let go of some of your fear and grab hold before it's too late. And that goes for everything in your life, not just your career."

Why does he always have to be right? Why does he always seem to know the innermost workings of my heart, even when I don't fully admit them to myself? I understand that Gohan really doesn't understand everything there is about me, but when it comes to the main issues of being afraid and lacking in confidence, he is _always_ correct. Letting out a deep breath of defeat, I slowly lean forward and take the stack of papers in front of me, placing them in my lap. Glancing through them, I notice that he's got everything right there for me: the application, how much it would cost, possible job opportunities in the city, even different places to live should I decide my rent is too high.

"Fine Gohan. I'll…I'll apply, if that's what you want."

"Goten, for the last time: it isn't what I want that's important. It's what _you_ want. I'm only trying to help you see that there is more than one way to find fulfillment in your life besides making money at a job you despise. When you truly like doing something, it makes life that much simpler."

Nodding my head in agreement, I slowly rub my hands together, noticing that our twenty-minute time limit is almost at an end.

"I'll look through everything, but can I leave it here until I go back to my place? I just flew straight here after closing the dealership and I don't have a place to put it. And I'd rather not let everyone know about stuff until I know one way or the other what I'm going to do."

He smiles at me and leans over his desk, grabbing the stack of papers from my lap and putting them neatly on the edge closest to his desk chair. We both stand up at the same time and silently make our way out of his home and back over to what is left of his birthday celebration. Before we get to our parent's patio, I stop him briefly.

Fishing in my pocket, I pull something out and hand it to him.

"What's this for?"

Rolling my eyes at him, I give him a look that basically says, 'Isn't it obvious?' I mean, how dense can he be, considering it's his birthday? I guess it's just another sign pointing to his age. Still, he continues to look at me like I've grown an extra head.

"Moron, it's for your birthday! Jeez!"

"Oh…yeah, I guess I wasn't expecting that. You didn't have to, you know. I'm not really that big on presents."

Whatever…only Gohan would not be interested in presents for his birthday. Slowly, he unwraps the small package and lifts the lid off the box. Peering inside, his face gives off a puzzled expression before he pushes his head up and gives me a questioning look.

"Capsules?"

"Yeah, capsules. But I'd keep them away from Videl, if I were you. You wouldn't want her to get jealous."

He suddenly gives me a look that says he understands exactly what I hid in the capsules. In fact, at the moment, he looks like he's about to either faint or have a serious nosebleed. Laughing, I take a step away before I feel his hand grab hold of my arm.

"Goten! I can't…if she finds out…"

Looking at him, I give him a smirk and yank myself away from his body.

"Then hide the evidence, idiot. Or burn them. I mean, you are a thirty-seven year old man. It isn't like you've never read the stuff before or looked at it, and I'm sure you've had some hidden during your time married to Videl. I just wanted to get rid of them. They were taking up space under my bed. Most of them are from Trunks anyway, so it isn't that great of a present. I ordered something, but it hasn't come in, so this will have to do until the real one arrives."

Chuckling under my breath, I move forward towards our family while Gohan sticks his contraband birthday present hastily inside his pants pocket. We're almost back to the picnic table when my eyes pick up on two people who were absent when I arrived. Suddenly, my nervousness reasserts itself and I feel like I'm going to vomit. Pausing, I take in a deep breath and still my reaction, putting on my normal goofy face even though I feel the opposite.

"Hey everyone, we're back!" I laugh out as we step onto the raised area the picnic table sits on. Everyone glances up briefly before going back to their conversations. Everybody with the exception of Trunks and Pan.

I can feel his clear blue eyes on my back as I slowly walk past him, heading for the buffet table to fill up another plate of food. Fiddling with the potato salad, I try to tell myself how foolish I'm acting when I feel somebody bump up against my hip. Turning my head to the side, I audibly swallow when I find myself staring at Trunks' face as he leans against the table surveying the rest of our friends in conversation.

"How 'ya been, Goten?"

It doesn't go past my notice that he isn't looking at me when he's speaking. Instead, his gaze is focused away from me towards some distant point that only he knows. Not really knowing what to say, I slap a hot dog on my plate and start putting on the fixings before giving him a lame answer.

"Good."

The silence between the two of us stretches on, only making the discomfort lodged in my gut all the more apparent. Blindly throwing some more food on my plate, I try to turn around and escape the oppressive atmosphere and move towards my family when he raises his arm and snags my empty hand, effectively stopping my exit.

"Goten…Goten, do you want to go for a walk and eat your food by the lake?"

Taken by surprise, I nod my head dumbly at him. Just as quickly as he grabbed my hand, he lets it go and pushes away from the buffet table, heading away from me and out across the grass. Swiping a soda, I take in a deep breath, berating myself for being such a chicken before following after him. After all, it is partially up to me to make the first move towards an apology, especially since he had tried calling me a couple of times after our fight and I had been too depressed to bother with answering the phone or checking my messages. Knowing all of that, however, is what is making my palms itch in nervous anticipation.

We're almost to the edge of the lawn when my ever-vigilant mother realizes that the two of us are headed off somewhere. More specifically, she latches her eyes on me, frowning angrily as I try to make my escape.

"Goten! Don't you dare try to sneak off again, young man! I haven't even gotten the chance to…"

This time, instead of my brother coming to my rescue, it's Trunks.

"Auntie Chi, Goten and I have some stuff we have to go over. I promise not to hog him the rest of the night. We'll be back and you can ream at him all you want then."

Ignoring her pointed glare, he keeps walking, while I follow stupidly behind him. Keeping my distance a few feet away, we walk silently through the lengthening shadows towards the spot we used to hang out when we were younger. It had first started out as our secret hiding place whenever we pulled pranks on my mother or just wanted to escape, and later, it turned into the place where we would share our dreams and our ambitions with each other. A place where we could talk about our innermost thoughts without worrying about anyone overhearing or judging us. However, it's been at least three years since the two of us have made a journey to this place, and the significance of our situation isn't lost on me. I don't know what we are going to say to one another. I just pray that it's enough to possibly start healing the rift that's come between us as of late.

After a few minutes of silent walking, we find ourselves in our secret glade next to the lake. Trunks sits first, drawing his knees up underneath his chin as he looks over across the lake towards the setting sun. The last golden light of the day illuminates his face, striking me how…how beautiful Trunks is. Blushing unconsciously over that stupid thought, wondering where it even came from, I seat myself a few feet away and immediately start attacking my food, giving him sidelong glances every few seconds as I wait for one of us to be brave enough to make the first move.

"Goten, are you sure you're good? It…it isn't like you to go hole yourself up and…"

Swallowing a bite of my hot dog, part of me wants to lash out sarcastically at him. Like he really gives a damn, like he even knows how hurtful his comments were to me over the phone. However, instead of giving into my anger, I do what I always do in an uncomfortable situation: I back down and keep my negativity to myself.

"I'm fine Trunks."

His shoulders tense up at that comment, and without warning, he attacks me. My plate of food flies into the air and lands face down in the grass as I wrestle against an enraged Trunks. We flail around on the packed dirt near the shore of the lake, chunks of soil flying into the air as we each try to get the upper hand. I try to kick out at him, but he's obviously been training in the GR because it doesn't seem to faze him. No matter how many times I try to free myself from his grip, he just yanks me back until we both find ourselves in the shallow water of the lake, water spraying around as we push and shove at each other. Slipping underneath him, I lamely try to push him off me, but instead, he grabs hold of my shirt and yanks me upwards so that my face is inches from his. My eyes widen when I see him pull back his arm and before I can react, he rams his fist into my jaw with a sickening crunch. My head whips back and I cry out in pain before I stop struggling underneath him. As I go limp, he lets go of my upper torso and I find myself lying in the shallow water feeling the waves as they lap against my face with Trunks straddling my hips.

"Stop fucking lying to me Goten. At least give me credit for being a somewhat intelligent person."

Feeling my anger simmer below the surface of my skin, I sit up suddenly and shove him off my body into the water.

"Would you even listen to the truth? _Would you_? What the fuck do you care if I lie or not, huh? You're so stuck in your own world, your own private hell, any truth I might choose to tell you would just go in one ear and out the other. So isn't it better if I just pretend everything is fine? Because when it comes down to it, nothing is going to change!"

Having had enough of our conversation and feeling the fool for not apologizing, for not _fixing_ the situation at hand, I stand up and shake the water out of my hair before I start to walk away. I don't want to fight with him, but I have this idea that the longer I stay out here, that's what will happen. Swallowing uncomfortably, I move off towards the grassy area at the edge of the shore, feeling ashamed for walking away yet again, only reaffirming to myself that I'm the worst sort of coward.

"Goten…don't walk away."

Clenching my fists tightly by my side, I try to ignore the pain in his voice. I try to tell myself that he's just trying to manipulate my weakness, that it's all a game to him because that's much easier to deal with than the horrible feeling of rejection or ridicule should I give into his request and tell him the truth. However, why the hell did I come out here if not to try to fix this growing separation? And if I'm too afraid to take a risk, just like my brother has accused me of doing, how are we ever going to repair the damage between the two of us? Making my decision, I turn around and face him, surprised to see that he's right in front of me. I'm even more surprised when he takes my hand and pulls me down to the ground next to him. Feeling uncomfortable over our closeness, I back away slightly and lean back on my hands, looking up at the sky as the first stars begin to appear.

"You really…hurt my feelings Trunks. And I partially blame myself for that because I left myself open and vulnerable."

"Is it about leaving you for that girl? I swear Goten, I didn't take off with her. I just had to use the restroom and when I came back, you were gone."

I don't know whether to believe him or not, but I give him the benefit of the doubt. Sure, I'm still smarting over being ditched for like the millionth time by him at a club, but that isn't it and I don't know if he can see it even though it's right in front of his eyes. Pushing my damp hair out of my face, I shiver slightly as the water evaporates from my clothing and skin before responding.

"Look, I don't care who you take off with. You're an adult and you can do whatever it is you want."

"Bullshit Goten. As I recall, we got into this argument because you were pissed I left you. So if you don't care, then why did you get so angry with me?"

Suddenly, I feel completely uncomfortable. Pushing away my uneasiness I look into his eyes and try to get a feel for what it is that he's thinking at the moment.

"It's…I care about you Trunks. And I'm afraid that your attitude is going to wind you into trouble. And I resent the fact that you want to spend time with me, but it's always on your terms doing things that you want to do that frankly, I don't enjoy any longer. Why can't you see what it is that you're doing to yourself every time you get plastered and have sex with some questionable girl? I don't understand it! You could have anybody that you wanted, yet you lower yourself to have these meaningless relationships and I wish you could…you could see that it doesn't have to be that way. But who the hell am I to talk? Like you said, I'm a loner and I'm a loser."

"I…I didn't mean what I said Goten and I'm sorry. It's just…forget it. I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry."

I can tell that he means it, but the cynical side of my sub-conscious wonders how long his apology will last before he makes some caustic comment without even realizing how much damage they cause me. Still, accepting his apology and making my own are the first steps towards temporarily bandaging our partially broken relationship.

"Fine. And I'm sorry for not answering the phone and ignoring you."

He nods his head slowly in acceptance before he moves next to me and lies down on his back. My curiosity gets the better of me and I ask him what he's doing.

"Looking at the stars. I haven't seen them in a while. It's hard to look for them in the city and I can't even remember the last time I was out here…out here with you. Do you miss it Goten?"

He's looking at me, his eyes open and inviting, just like how it used to be before we started trying to affirm our status as contributing adults, as individuals separate from one another. It's easy to forget that our whole problem seems to stem from this desire to prove our self worth and individuality away from one another. But all this need to prove ourselves is doing is making us each miserable in our own way. He's right though: I do miss it. I miss being with him like this, being able to just be myself and enjoy his company, something I haven't been able to do in a long while. Nodding my head, I lean forward and gaze at the rippling water of the lake.

"Lay down next to me Goten."

Shifting my vision to him, I take in a deep breath before complying with his request. What could it hurt? We used to do this all the time when we were boys, so what makes it any different now? Well, perhaps the fact that we aren't little kids. Still, it's Trunks and…

Relaxing next to him, I let the sounds of the summer frogs and crickets lull me into a sense of serenity, that all is well in the world. It's easy to forget the uneasiness, the regrets when surrounded by such ethereal beauty of a clear summer's night. Taking in a deep breath, I angle my head slightly to the left so that I can peek at Trunks. His eyes are half lidded and there is a slight quirk at the corner of his mouth, telling me that he's relaxed and enjoying the evening. He's perfect…he's beautiful…and he's watching me.

"You look like you want to kiss me Goten."

Do I really? How lame is that? I…don't want to do that with him of all people. I mean, he's another guy and my friend. My _friend_. But, Goten, how often have you thought about how he thinks of the way you look? Why do his opinions matter to you so much? And why, when you dream about the future, do you always find yourself in a world that revolves around him? I ask these questions to myself at the same time that I'm convincing myself Trunks is just playing another one of his stupid games to make me look stupid and foolish, something he's done to me as far back as I can remember.

Moving my face away from him, I let out a huff of air and try to push away those thoughts that creep up on me when I least expect them and don't want them. I'm not…I'm not that way. But can I continue denying, at least to myself, that I find my best friend attractive? It's not like anyone else would have to know, nor is it something I should be ashamed of because he is a good looking man. If he wasn't, he wouldn't have girls falling all over him on a continuous basis. It's just…how normal is it for a guy to find another guy attractive?

Closing my eyes briefly, I snap them open when I feel Trunks shift his position next to me. Suddenly, his face is looming over mine and his arms are on either side of my shoulders. I scream inside my head to move away or make some dumb ass joke up, but my body has different ideas. It doesn't want to move. Taking in a shuddering breath, I lick my lips unconsciously as he lowers his face even closer to my own so that our noses are almost touching.

"Do you want to?" he asks in a slightly husky tone of voice.

"Do wh..what?" I ask back nervously

"Kiss."

_Yes_.

"No."

"Really? You sure aren't acting like it. What would it hurt? It's just me, Goten."

This is wrong…he has to be playing me for an idiot and the last thing I need is for him to convince me to do something as retarded as kissing him just so he can laugh at me right before our lips touch, making me look like a fool. Gaining control of my senses, I push up on him until I'm sitting up and he's lying on his side, looking at me with a question on his face and a mask of…vulnerability.

"Very funny Trunks. Like I could ever kiss you. Anyway, I'm sure kissing me wouldn't come anywhere near to all the girls you've been with. I mean, I don't have a lot of experience in that realm."

I laugh uncomfortably, trying to shake away the gravity of the situation, but Trunks…looks embarrassed and hurt. Feeling shamed, I look away as I try to convince myself that he wouldn't feel hurt over something like rejection over the fake situation at hand.

"Yeah, you're right. It'd be all tongue and saliva. Well, it's your loss."

There it is again, that hurt sound in his voice and I feel like kicking myself for being callous. But honestly, who does he think he's trying to kid? He's something of a womanizer and although I've never heard him make derogatory comments about guys kissing other guys, he's never come across to me as somebody who would be remotely interested in experimenting like that. And come to think of it, I've never thought of myself in that manner either. Yet…yet having his face that close to my own, I can't pretend that I didn't want him to kiss me, and that only makes me even more confused.

I don't know how long I lay on the grass lost in my thoughts before the sound of Trunks clearing his throat catches my attention.

"Look, we better head back. Your mom's probably having a shit fit."

Nodding my head, I stand up and brush the dirt and grass of my pants before following Trunks out of the glen. Catching up to him, I decide to put the pseudo kissing incident out of my head and instead, focus on seeing if any progress was made tonight between the two of us.

"So…are we okay?"

He glances over at me and gives me a sad smile.

"Yeah…I missed you. Are you busy tomorrow?"

I shake my head no.

"Do you want to come over and watch a movie?"

"Sure."

End of conversation. At least, I feel more confident that I haven't lost my best friend like I thought I had three week ago. However, there is so much more that needs to be done before I feel like we understand one another. And, if I'm finally honest with myself, I have a lot of thinking to do in regards of my feelings towards my best friend.

There is no doubt in my mind that part of my anger towards him that night at the club was because of jealousy. However, was it jealousy over a perceived threat to our friendship because of his partying activities or was it jealousy because I wasn't the one he was fondling? That is what I have to figure out, along with straightening out my messed up life.

_Issues, issues, and more issues…what does it all mean? Will Goten be able to continue to ignore his attraction and deep feelings for Trunks? And will Trunks be able to put aside his partying lifestyle in order to save his floundering friendship with Goten? Find out in the next chapter. And please be kind and review!_


	5. Chapter 5

_Hello everyone. Sorry for the really long wait. I am job hunting and working, and this chapter was really hard to write. I'm not sure if I like the end result, but it's really up to you what you think. Hopefully, it is acceptable. Thanks for the kind reviews I have received. I really appreciate them. And again, I apologize for the long delay. Just as a warning, I probably will only be updating about once a month because I really need to concentrate on finding a job. I'll keep you posted_!

_Disclaimer: All characters and original story concept for Dragon Ball Z belong to Toriyama Akira._

_Chapter 5_

Leaving my brother's party put me in a state of hope mixed with an equal measure of confusion and partial denial. Whereas I was hoping to gain a clearer picture of possible goals and expectations I could hold for myself towards the future, I ended up leaving with a feeling that nothing had been resolved at all, and those issues that had been niggling in the dark corners of my innermost thoughts were starting to boil outwards. I couldn't ignore them. Not after almost letting myself be kissed by Trunks.

Running a hand through my hair, I pause a moment before throwing myself bodily onto the floor of my living room. The thing that keeps coming back in my mind is this: what the hell is happening to me? Sure, I could live with the fact that there have been times where I have wondered whether or not Trunks would find me attractive, but I never really gave those ideas much thought. It was coming from the perspective that I felt he was better looking than me and it was a comparison of sorts. Or at least, that's what I told myself. But…now I wonder if I've always had these feelings of attraction? Attraction…towards him this entire time. Perhaps the reason I've never really seriously considered settling down isn't because I'm not ready to, but because I can't ever picture myself with a girl. And no matter what you might think, that is a fairly scary realization.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, I let that moment from down by the lake run through my mind. He had asked me if I wanted to kiss. Had I not moved away and pushed him off of me, that's what would have happened. Why would he do something like that? The thing that really bothers me isn't so much the fact that I wanted to find out what it would be like to touch my lips to his, but why it seemed like my rejection really hurt Trunks. He's not…gay. And maybe I am…fuck.

"Well, I'm not going to think about it. It didn't mean shit," I mutter to myself as I watch dust motes float in the air, shimmering in the shaft of light coming through my apartment window.

But I'm just lying to myself. It did mean…something. What, I'm still too afraid to confront. And it's driving me crazy, these circular thoughts about _that _moment, when his face was barely an inch from my own and how it would have been all too easy to give in to a fucked up temptation that would have done neither of us any good.

Slamming my fist to the ground in irritation, I grope around searching for the remote to my television before I remember that Gohan had thrown it out on Friday night. Growling, I sit up slowly, propping my upper torso limply against my futon. It wouldn't take much to get up and turn on the television, but my energy is zapped and I just don't feel like moving, even though I know it would be a good thing to help me stop dwelling on certain things.

Letting out another sigh, I let my eyes track to my coffee table, which has the piles of paper Gohan gave me last night at his party. Truthfully, I know I should be sorting out through all of the information to get an idea of what I need to do in order to apply for school, but that's another avenue that seems impossible. The fact is, it's terrifying to actually start taking steps to change one's life, even if those steps are something that will lead to an overall improvement in said life. The more I think about being a teacher, the more I realize that it _is_ something I could see myself doing and enjoying. But school costs money, and I don't like the idea of having to take out loans or give up my apartment, no matter what Gohan says to the contrary. And then there is no guarantee that I would find a job. I know the information he gave me is supposed to help, but at the moment, it just seems like one more insurmountable obstacle and I can say with one hundred percent certainty that my motivation is not where it should be. It doesn't help that I also feel guilty over the fact that as of yet, I haven't even glanced at it. Oh well…ignoring it for one stinking day isn't going to be that much of a hindrance.

What to do though? I'm bored. Idly tapping my fingers against my thigh in a steady tattoo, it's almost a blessing when the phone suddenly rings, snapping me out of the trance like state I've drifted off into. Standing quickly, I leap around the futon and run the few steps I need to take in order to enter my small kitchen. Grabbing the phone hastily off the hook, I press the talk button and answer mechanically.

"Hello?"

I hear a quick intake of breath, as though the person on the other end has reservations about calling me. Scrunching my eyebrows together in irritation when the person doesn't respond, I slowly speak into the receiver.

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

"Uhh…Goten. Didn't know if you would really answer your phone this time around."

Trunks.

Backing up slightly, I rest my hips against the counter and pull the cordless phone closer to my ear.

"Yeah…that was stupid of me. I freaked my mom right out," I respond, suddenly nervous for no apparent reason. Forcing out a laugh, I can feel my cheeks heat in embarrassment over the thoughts of how uncharacteristically melancholic my behavior has been for the last few weeks.

"I…know. I was at the picnic yesterday and up until you got there buddy, she didn't stop making comments about how she was going to kick your ass for being such a pussy. _And _for worrying her. She's a scary woman, your mother. The only thing redeeming about her is her phenomenal cooking ability. Otherwise…"

Feeling a genuine smile start to crack, I relax against the counter and push away the awkwardness that's made itself known since realizing that Trunks is on the other end of the phone. It seems like…when we were younger. I know that isn't the case, but taking refuge in the past is better than being overwhelmed by uncertainty and discomfiture. Listening to Trunks rant about my mother's tendency to be over the top is much better than letting events from yesterday and the previous few weeks flit back into my conscious awareness while talking to him.

"Yo, earth to Goten? Are you still with me?"

Shaking my head, it doesn't take much to realize that I must have been spacing out while he's been talking to me. Pushing myself away from the counter, I veer of into my bedroom and fall onto my bed, rolling over on my back before responding.

"Uh, yeah. I was just thinking. I didn't mean to space out on you like that."

There is an extended pause and a slow exhalation of breath before Trunks' voice comes back on.

"About what?"

"Huh?" I ask. He answers slowly and succinctly; as though he's talking to a person with lower than normal intelligence.

"What…were…you…thinking…about…?"

"Life."

"Wow Goten. That just told me _so_ much. Well, whatever. Are you still planning on coming over?"

Slightly surprised at the change of subject, I wonder if he doesn't want to know about what I'm thinking, which bothers me slightly. Pushing away my fickle irritation, I'm secretly glad that our arrangement last night about meeting up today wasn't just a fluke or coincidence. It's been a while since I've just spent time hanging with Trunks without the expectation of going out and socializing.

"Yeah, that was my general idea. I didn't make any other plans for the evening, in case you were worried."

"What do I have to be worried about? After all, it's me you're coming over to see…and when you're rich and handsome as moi, you never have to worry about people showing up. It's just part of the package."

Part of the package? Snorting out sarcastically, I keep back the chuckle forming in my throat.

"God Trunks, aren't you full of yourself? Who said I was coming over to see you? I'm more for the movie than anything else, especially since Gohan threw out my remote control and I'm too lazy to turn the T.V. on manually. Sucks not having a T.V."

"Then buy a new universal remote moron. You only live a block from S-Mart, and I'm pretty sure they sell those kinds of things there. Idiot!"

Sinking deeper into my pillow, I close my eyes and nod my head. In fact, if I really wanted to, I could probably stop by S-Mart before going over to Trunks to pick up a new one. Maybe that's what I'll do to fill up the few hours before flying over to Trunks' place. It's not like I have anything else to do, besides reading through mounds of paperwork, which doesn't seem like an appealing option on a Sunday afternoon.

"So…how 'bout coming over now? I don't have anything going on. Unless…you have a hot date that I don't know about?"

Smiling slightly, I sigh. Hot date? I don't have one of those planned and in truth, I haven't been on a hot date in months. Maybe even a year, but I'm not really sure, so that doesn't say much for my social skills or wooing ability.

"No, don't have a hot date planned. Sorry to disappoint."

"Why would I be disappointed? That means I get you all to myself."

Swallowing a little, my pulse speeds up slightly. Cursing myself for imagining some sort of veiled meaning behind Trunks' words, I try to counter my inward feelings of nervousness with a blasé retort.

"Just try to behave yourself when I get there. I know how much you can't wait to jump me."

There's a long pause, as though my statement surprises Trunks. Thinking over the words in my head, I sit up abruptly feeling both extremely foolish and idiotic at the same time. All day, I've been trying to shove last night out of my head and what do I do, but all but push what happened into his face. Way to go, Goten.

"Trunks, are you…are you there?"

My ears pick up a faint rustling sound before the clear sound of Trunks' tenor voice floats through the receiver.

"Of course I am. Did you hear the phone click? Sometimes Chibi, you need to use your head. Just…just get your ass over here, and I'll promise to try and keep my hands to myself. But, you know me. I'm a man whore, so I'm not guaranteeing that you'll leave here tonight unmolested. See you in five."

With that, the sound of the phone being hung up comes through to my end. Hitting the off button with my thumb, I throw the phone over onto the other side of my bed before I sit up and stretch my arms over my head. Yawning, I stand up slowly and shuffle over to my closet, pulling out an old Capsule Corporation T-shirt and a pair of tan cargo shorts. Pulling the shirt on over my naked chest and then slipping the shorts over my boxers, I step into the bathroom and brush my teeth, running my fingers through my slightly flattened hair. I look like a vagabond, especially since I haven't bothered with shaving and my five o'clock shadow is deeply pronounced. Shrugging slightly to myself, I spit out a wad of saliva mixed with toothpaste, rinsing my brush off with the running tap water before throwing my toothbrush back in its cup and stepping out of my small bathroom into my living area.

Grabbing my keys off the kitchen counter, I walk over to the air conditioning unit and turn down the air before switching off the lights. Slipping into a pair of beat up sandals, I slowly open the door to my apartment and step out into the warm, mid-afternoon sunlight. Closing and locking the door behind me, I leisurely walk down the stairs and head out onto the hot concrete pavement of the sidewalk, heading in the general direction of where Trunks lives.

This time around, I don't bother with taking the bus or calling a taxi. Walking outside within the bustling city, I realize how long it has been since I've just been outside for the sake of enjoying the day. Trunks is right and so is my family: I've been acting like an idiot lately and my depressed attitude is not like me at all. But what does it really all mean?

I have high hopes for today. I want to know if our fist fight and ensuing conversation last night was enough to drive home to Trunks how much I want to understand why he's driven to doing the things that he does. And perhaps the same can be true of me as well. He doesn't have the right to make hurtful comments to me, but I guess he does have the right to know about what's going on in my life and why I have this thirst within me to prove that I'm capable, that I'm worth something, and that I can be just as successful as he is. I sometimes wonder if this…this distance between us has come about because of my own feelings of inadequacy. When you grow up compared to a paragon, sometimes your own viewpoints become skewed, which seems to be the case with me. But whatever. I'm not a philosopher. Never have been and never will be.

I know my way to Trunks' apartment by memory. A few years ago, before we started to have these issues between us, he decided to move out on his own away from the prying eyes of both Bulma and Vegeta. I guess I can't blame him for that, since I pretty much did the same thing. But my ideas of the real reason he decided to strike out on his own are very different from the reasons for my own attempt at independence. I think a lot of the reason why Trunks chose to leave the spacious apartment he had on Capsule Corporation property had more to do with privacy in regards to his sexual exploits than anything else. I remember him telling me about bringing a girl home one time and having Vegeta bust in on him at four o'clock in the morning for some early morning training, only to find his son in the middle of fucking the woman's brains out. A week later, he was moving to a penthouse apartment on the other side of West City.

All that aside, he lives at the opposite end of town from where I'm situated and walking can take the better part of two hours. Deciding to skip going to S-mart for the moment, I veer off into a dingy, littered alley before powering up and blasting up into the air. I know it probably seems like a risk to you, flying where so many people can see me, but most people are centered on their basic day-to-day activities to notice something extremely out of the ordinary. At any rate, I'm not too concerned about being caught.

In a few seconds, I land on the outer balcony of Trunks' apartment. Standing awkwardly, I scratch the back of my calf before taking a step towards the French doors that lead to the inside of his apartment. Halfway through my step, I pause when a whiff of cigarette smoke passes by on the breeze. Pivoting slightly, I turn my eyes and find myself watching Trunks as he leans up against the other side of the balcony, his own eyes taking in the sight of the skyline as he takes in a deep drag of his cancer stick before slowly exhaling the smoke through his nostrils. Unbidden, a thought of how good he looks standing there, even with a damn cigarette held between his tapered fingers, shoves its way into my brain. Shaking my head for good measure, I step towards him and clear my throat. He turns and looks at me, smirking before crushing what's left of his cigarette on the balcony rail.

"I knew you were there, Chibi. Are you impatient for some reason? Afraid I won't give you my undivided attention?"

As the words start to spill past his lips, he pushes of the railing and starts walking towards me, taking a step slowly and deliberately with each word until he's standing in front of me, the toes of his bare feet touching my own. Once again, whether he's meaning to or not, his brash behavior and close proximity make me nervous, mostly because I can't tell what his intentions are and the fact that I…am starting to admit to myself that I find him attractive. It would cause me to lose face if I back up a half step, and I don't want to do that in front of him. That part of it goes way back to when we were younger, when we'd have ridiculous, made up endurance contests. I never wanted to lose to him, yet he always had a way of making me do something stupid and so I never actually ended up being the winner. I guess some things never really change, and I can say that whenever Trunks does something out of character, I'm the one left reeling from it. And it's never really crossed my mind to ever try and unbalance him, even now.

So I just stand there, giving him the deer in the headlight look, which only makes the slight quirk of his lips turn into a full blown smirk. As usual, he knows that he's in control and I'm at the mercy of whatever it is that he has planned until his actions snap me back into reality and I try to fight against him. This time, he stays his ground, moving in slightly closer to me. Unintentionally, I take in a quick breath that sounds like a gasp for air, as though I'm drowning. Kicking myself mentally, I watch as he raises his right arm, bringing his hand up as though he's going to cup my cheek. Blushing hotly, it takes every ounce of control to not back away _or_ push my face into his hand like a moron.

His face suddenly seems to be an inch from my own. My heart starts beating faster, a steady_ lub-dub _pounding through my ears as the blood starts pouring into my face and spreading lower throughout my body. I haven't….I haven't had a reaction like this to anyone in a long time and suddenly my humiliation knows no bounds. If he realizes what it is that he's doing to me, I wouldn't be able to live it down. Not from Trunks, at any rate.

"Goten, you're way too tense. You need to relax."

He moves in closer…closer, and then I feel a painful jab to the center of my forehead.

Abruptly, he's out of range, laughing at me with his arms crossed over his chest while I blink dumbly and slowly rub the sore spot in the middle of my brow. It takes me a few seconds to realize that he had effectively trapped me for whatever reason and then flicked me painfully in the forehead with his index finger. Getting a hold of my senses, I growl angrily under my breath and lunge towards him, only to watch as he nimbly steps to the side. Glaring at him, I rub my forehead again, trying to massage the soreness of my skin away.

"What the hell was that for?"

He looks at me and shrugs half-heartedly, his laughter dying in his throat as he watches me with a look of gravity in his eyes.

"What was it for? Come on, Goten! Don't be such a prude. It was just for fun, what else? And you fall for those sorts of tricks every time, although I wonder what it was that you were thinking about that made you stiffen up like that. God forbid that you were thinking I was actually going to _kiss_ you. I mean, how disgusting would that be?"

I freeze where I am. Trunks is a dichotomy of contrasts at the moment. His face still holds an amused smirk, but his voice sounds brittle and sharp, with a hint of resentment mixed in for good measure. Not really knowing what to do or say, or even what it means, I shuffle a bit closer and hold out my hand in supplication.

"Trunks…I…"

He holds up his own hand to stop me.

"Just…whatever. I was playing with you and you just end up in my trap each and every time. You've really got to work on not being so gullible. Now come on. I'm fucking hungry. Are you?"

Nodding my head in agreement, I follow his lead and step into his apartment, which makes mine look cheap in comparison. He grabs his cell phone off of a decorative table and then heads into a room, which contains his entertainment center. The whole room is probably the size of my kitchen, bathroom, and living area combined. Leisurely, he rounds his spacious sofa and heads to a mini fridge built into the wall. Opening it up, he grabs a couple of bottles of something and throws one to me before flopping down across the cushions. Raising the bottle up to my eyes so I can examine it, I'm not surprised to find out that it's a bottle of expensive, imported beer. Popping the cap off with my finger, I take an experimental swallow before stepping closer to where Trunks is sitting, watching me with a curious expression etched across his features.

"Fuck Goten, it's just a beer. I didn't drug it, if that's what you're so uptight about."

Shrugging, I take another swallow, gulping it down and wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

"I'm sure you wouldn't drug beer Trunks. What would be the point, since beer itself is a drug?"

He looks at me curiously and then sneers at me, causing me to lick my lips in a nervous manner. His current expression reminds me of a fox about to attack a chicken, and I happen to be the unlucky bird.

"There are a lot of reasons why someone would drug alcohol. For one thing, alcohol makes certain drugs much more potent, much more _dangerous_. Secondly, when you mix drugs with alcohol, the effectiveness of the drug is greatly increased. So say I was really interested in, I don't know, shall we say fucking somebody? Yeah, fucking somebody, and they prove to be quite resistant to my charms. I just slip a little something into their drink and suddenly, they're on fire for me. It's just that simple."

I know he's lying because I highly doubt Trunks would ever have problems getting anyone into his bed. As far as I know, any girl Trunks has ever seduced has always been a willing partner. Yet, I still feel uncomfortable, and I have a feeling that he's acting like this on purpose, punishing me for something that I did wrong but am not aware of. Still, I can't help but think that his somewhat overt sexual overtones have to do with not letting him kiss me. It's maddening because I think that all of this is in my head, yet the happy seeming Trunks I talked to on the phone seems to have disappeared and I'm left with an outwardly happy yet inwardly angry friend who happens to like playing games with me.

Trying to shake off my unease, I round the sofa and sit next to him, making sure to keep a few inches of space between us, which doesn't go unnoticed.

"Shit Goten, I'm just teasing! I can't believe you actually think I would drug your beer to get you to have sex with me. I mean, I'm sure your virgin ass couldn't handle my cock anyway. And besides, doing the nasty with you…well, it'd be pretty hard to imagine you as a hot chick with your scruffy whiskers poking me in the face."

Listening to him, I suddenly wonder why I bothered to come at all, if all he intends to do is insult me and make me out to look like an idiot. Trying to control my anger, I squeeze my beer bottle until the knuckles of my hand turn white.

"There's only so much a person can visually pretend when they're having sex, ya' know? And since you seem to have an over abundance of testosterone, I bet you're really hairy everywhere, and doing a hairy girl is just wrong."

I don't know why, but a sudden, irrational anger suddenly bursts forward. Crushing my beer bottle in my hand, letting the amber liquid and white foam splash across my shorts and onto Trunks' expensive sofa, I throw the broken shards of glass onto the carpeting as I stand up and start to leave, ignoring the pain of the gashes I just inflicted upon myself. I can hear Trunks shouting something, but I can't understand and so I hastily make my way towards the exit. Unfortunately, Trunks beats me to the punch. Grabbing hold of my shoulders, he yanks me away from the doorway and pushes me back into the entertainment room.

"Goten! You're…you're bleeding everywhere. Where the hell do you think you're going?"

"Home," I growl out angrily.

"Don't go, not with your hand looking like that."

He pulls it up gingerly and I wince when I see the deep tears in my flesh and the blood that's funneling down the skin of my arm.

"Just…stay put, and I'll be right back."

I watch as he hurriedly exits the room, leaving me in the company of myself and my thoughts.

Today just seemed so promising, but either our problems are deeper than either one of us thought, or the irrational anger that consumed us both yesterday and ended up in a fist fight still hasn't dissipated. Whatever the case, I'm pissed at myself for taking Trunks bait, and I'm pissed at him for being crude, vulgar, and insulting in such a personal way. In truth, I don't think he even realizes the extent of the cruelty behind his words, yet it seems almost odd that he could so effectively stick a knife in me and twist it until I couldn't take it any more without knowing my own inner turmoil in concern towards him.

I don't have much time to think before Trunks pops back in through the door, carrying bandages and antiseptic with him. Grabbing hold of my uninjured arm, he pulls me out into the hallway and then off to the right into a bathroom. Holding my hand over the sink, he turns on the hot water and sticks it under the steady stream coming from the faucet.

After the water rinses most of the blood off, I pull my damaged hand out of his grip.

"I can handle it. It's not the first time I've been hurt. You don't have to help."

He gives me a look of disbelief before completely ignoring my statement as he tries to grab my hand once again. I back away and give him a look that clearly conveys my anger and hostility towards him.

"You're being an idiot Goten. There's probably glass shards imbedded in your skin and it's easier to pull out the pieces when somebody helps you. Besides, you know as well as I do that I'm just as qualified, if not more qualified, to dress serious wounds. So stop being a baby and give me your fucking hand."

I don't agree with him about being more qualified to dress wounds, since we were both taught by Vegeta at a young age how to deal with injuries, in case we injured each other in our play or sparring matches. It's somewhat pointless to argue with him though, because he inherited both Vegeta_ and_ Bulma's stubbornness. However, both my parents aren't known for their complacent attitudes, and I can be just as obstinate as him. I shake my head no and start the meticulous task of plucking the miniscule slivers of glass left in the palm of my hand.

A few minutes pass in which Trunks just takes up a post next to the door, leaning against the doorframe as he inspects my wound cleaning ability. Eventually, I'm satisfied that all foreign bodies are out of my raw skin and relieved to see that the cuts aren't deep and that they've finished clotting for the most part. Taking the antiseptic, I use a cotton ball and dab it onto my wounds, wincing from the stinging sensation before wrapping my hand in a layer of gauze.

Moving away from the sink, I head towards the doorway where Trunks is still standing with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Are you going to let me pass?"

"What's the magic word?" he asks softly, his blue eyes locked on mine.

"Please let me out."

"Come on Goten, do you seriously want to go home? You just got here."

I know that I'm giving him an incredulous look because I can't figure out how he can be so obtuse about shit.

"I…I can't believe you Trunks. _Why_ would I want to stay when you've had this nasty attitude since the moment I landed on your balcony? You sure as hell aren't making it enjoyable. If you're still mad at me about…about yesterday and the weeks before then, I can understand that I guess. But at least tell me why you're still angry instead of skewering me with insults and barbs aimed where it hurts the most."

He sighs and then pushes his hand into his pale lavender hair.

"Yeah, I guess I did overdo it. I really didn't mean any of it Goten. It's just…forget it. It isn't important. I've really upset you and…I'm sorry. If you want to go back to your place, I totally get it. I have been acting like an ass, especially pissing you off to the point where you hurt yourself."

Nodding my head, I accept his apology with a grain of salt. I guess that I know he's sorry, but I still don't understand why he had to pick those particular barbs to come at me with, and he hasn't really explained why he was still angry with me in the first place. However, I'm not one to complain, especially since this was what I had planned for my day off before returning to the drudgery of selling used cars for Mr. Nezumi.

"So, are we cool?"

"Yeah," I say as I walk up to him, "we're cool."

"Good. I'll order some noodles and then I have a bunch of movies we can watch, unless you want to do something else?"

It's more of a statement than a question. Do something else? What I'd really like to do is just _talk_ to him about the things that seem to be pushing us apart, driving a wedge between the friendship we once had the lives that we are both leading at the moment. What I _want_ is to understand what it was that I did to make him so edgy today, when I thought we had all but apologized for everything last night. But I guess I'll settle for a movie and the company of the person who I want to spend the most time with. Doing something with Trunks is better than sitting in my apartment by myself dwelling on the truth about my feelings for him, or the uncertain future I've tentatively planned out with my brother. There will be time enough in the future to deal with those two things when they need to be truly dealt with.

"Nah, I'm fine with that. Just as long as it isn't a porn marathon."

He cracks a genuine smile and then rubs his hair sheepishly.

"What, you aren't interested in seeing naked women getting some action? What the fuck is wrong with you? Well, rest assured, I only picked out action movies devoid of that particular _action_."

With that said, he pulls away from the bathroom door and heads out into the hallway. I follow behind him and once again find myself back in the entertainment room. This time, however, Trunks is perfectly cordial and goofy, making some stupid comment about the way my hair looks like I stuck my hand in a light socket. I smile blandly and sit down on the couch as he fiddles around with the lighting and the television, waiting for the movie to start.

Watching him, I think about what a perfect ass he can be, yet I wouldn't trade him for anyone else. There is no one who would ever be able to replace Trunks in my life. For the first time I wonder if the same is true for him.

_Well, the issues are still there. The next chapter will begin the next segment: Goten finally makes a decision in regards to his future life. Will he also finally admit to himself what he really feels for Trunks? And what about Trunks? What will he say about Goten's decision? And is there something that he's hiding from Goten? Find out in the next chapter! And please review, if you would like!_


	6. Chapter 6

_Hello again! Here is the next chapter. Thanks so much for the reviews. They really are encouraging. And special thanks to Vicious-loner for helping me to improve my work. Also, as an update, I have found a job. I'm going to be moving to South Korea. I will try to update as frequently as possible, but they might be slow in coming. I hope you all understand._

_Disclaimer: Dragon Ball Z and all characters are owned by Toriyama Akira._

_A few weeks later…_

"Mr. Nezumi, do you have a few minutes?" I ask somewhat forcefully while I try not to fan myself in the sweltering heat of the outer office. Sensing sweat drip down the back of my neck and on to the starched collar of my somewhat pristine white button down shirt, I successfully ward off the grimace appearing at the corners of my mouth. I'm used to sweat, but there is nothing worse than feeling like drowning in the smelly bodily excrement, especially when the polyester fabric of my shirt sticks to my skin like a cellophane sleeve.

And, to make matters worse, my egotistical boss has the satisfaction of sitting upon his throne enjoying the soft, cool air coming from his own personal air conditioning unit that he recently installed, while the rest of his lackeys toil out in the hot sun selling, in my opinion, physically compromised junk cars for an over-inflated price. Okay, so maybe I'm exaggerating a bit, but there_ is_ a reason behind Mr. Nezumi's no return policy and that's probably because the pieces of shit he sells to his customers would end up coming back as soon as the cars had been driven for more than a city block.

Slowly, he swivels his desk chair around and away from the old thirteen inch T.V. that occupies most of his working hours as he watches all the major sports networks. Taking a sip from a soft drink container, he flicks a few drops of condensation off his skinny, ringed fingers before acknowledging my request. As usual, he tries to make it seem as though I'm interrupting his valuable time, but since I'm used to his tactics of covert intimidation, I simply ignore the simmering feeling of pent up anger and resentment in regards to the well-oiled rat sitting in front of me. At times like this, his attitude inflames the innate violence I try to contain. However, it wouldn't do me any good to give in to my temper and blast the surrounding area to nothing more than a pile of ashes. I don't particularly desire becoming a wanted criminal.

"I might have a few that I could spare. However, I'm a very busy man Goten, and so I can't guarantee how much time I can give you."

_Bullshit, _I think to myself. I know as soon as his 'valuable time' is up, he's just going to go back to watching T.V. and drinking his diet sodas in the privacy of his air conditioned office. However, humoring him is one of the strategies I've learned to use during my time working in his used car lot.

"Ah, not to worry Mr. Nezumi. It shouldn't take more than a few minutes, at the most."

Stepping into his abode, I close the door behind me and step up to his desk, pulling out the folder I've been hiding behind my back. As soon as he sees the folder, his already small eyes squint in even further, adding to his overall appearance that mimics his last name. I have a feeling he thinks that I'm going to be asking for a raise, especially since he's been late with our quarterly reviews and my performance record indicates that my base salary should have been increased at least a month or two ago. The first words out of his mouth only validate my assumption.

"Well Goten, are you here to talk about your performance review? I assure you, you've been doing an adequate job. You're one of my most faithful employees and you do seem to have a real knack with sales. However…"

I put my hand up, effectively cutting him off in the middle of his excuses.

"It's not about a raise. In fact, it's about the complete opposite."

I can see he's dumbstruck because his eyes bulge out of his head and he starts to visibly sweat. No doubt, he has an inkling about what I'm going to do and the thought of losing his most valuable sales slave is probably a frightening reality for him. I can't help but smirk as I pull out a piece of paper from my folder and set it on the desk in front of him. Quickly, he shakes his head before snatching the piece of paper off his Formica topped desk.

Reading it hastily, he drops it as quickly as he picked it up before flopping his body back into the cushions of his orange vinyl office chair.

"You're tendering your resignation?"

I nod my head in the affirmative, feeling somewhat satisfied and vindicated by the rather clueless and confused look on his ugly face.

"But…Goten, my boy! You're throwing away a golden opportunity by leaving Nezumi's Auto Emporium! You're our number one sales lead. We can't…I mean _you_ can't afford to leave! I think you're being a bit hasty in your decision. Have a seat and we'll talk about how to make you see the value of staying with my company."

I don't take a seat. Instead, I move back towards the door and put my hand on the knob, which only inflames Mr. Nezumi, who is now clearly showing signs of his distress over losing another valuable employee.

"Look Mr. Nezumi, I appreciate the offer, but I've spent a good couple of weeks thinking about this decision and I feel in the long run, it's the best one that I can make."

Truthfully, I just want to tell him that his company sucks and where he can stick it. However, I want to leave with a good impression simply because having him bad mouth me could affect my future employment opportunities.

"Goten…if it's about money, I'll give you a 15 percent raise. And I'll…make a deal with you so you won't have to work any more Saturdays. Hell, I'll even give you a promotion to advanced sales lead."

Advanced sales lead? I want to ask him if such a position even exists within his crappy business. And no matter that a 15 percent raise would be nice, with guaranteed weekends off, it's not enough to offset the thought of spending the rest of my life doing a job that I despise for a man that I think of in worse terms than I did for Super Buu, who killed my mom and ended up killing me and Trunks too. Standing firm to my resolution, I shake my head no.

"Thanks for the offer, Mr. Nezumi. However, I can't accept it. I'm giving you this letter of resignation and my two weeks notice. If that's all, I'm going to leave, since my shift is over with."

Before he can say anything in an attempt to woo me back to his side, I quickly exit, shutting the door behind me with a loud bang. Stepping quickly outside the rickety looking building that holds the offices, I pad across the auto lot and leave without saying goodbye to the two other sales representatives currently talking to potential customers. Crossing the street to the bus stop, I sit on the bench feeling for the first time in a _long_ time a sense of heady relief. I finally stuck to a resolution, and quitting from Mr. Nezumi's used car lot was easier than I had thought it would be. True, I still have to put in my two weeks, but I'm not concerned with that because they'll go by swiftly. And since I have a job lined up as an assistant activities director for the boys and girls club I had worked for during college, things seem to finally be looking up. At least, for part of my life, at any rate.

Shaking off my negativity, I suddenly find myself desiring to do something spontaneous, something reckless, and something…daring. In truth, I think it's the freedom of finally kicking away that feeling of never ending suffocation by taking my life back into my hands. I haven't felt like this in…years. Most likely not since high school or even before then. Standing up rapidly from the bench, I wink at an elderly lady who is startled by my sudden movement before I power up and blast off into the air. I laugh when I can hear the strain of the voices from the passersby's who wonder how an earth a boy can fly before I find myself landing on Trunks' balcony outside his expensive, luxury apartment.

Brushing my windblown hair out of my face, I step up to the sliding patio door and peer inside. I have no idea if he's home or not and I feel foolish that my spontaneity led me here, of all places. In fact, it's been over a week since I last talked to Trunks, and while things seem to have improved on the surface, I still feel like there is something vital that's missing between the two of us. Anyway, the reality is that he is my best friend, and whenever I've done something that means a great deal to me, he's always been the first person I've told my news to, even ahead of Gohan and my parents. Sensing out for his ki, I'm relieved when I can feel it somewhere inside the vicinity. Sliding my courage up a notch, I rap loudly on the tempered glass.

"Hey Trunks! I know you're in there. Trunks!"

My ears pick up a faint rustling sound coming from the other side of the glass. A few seconds later, I can see Trunks stumbling down the hallway, coming to a halt at the patio door. I feel a twinge of guilt when I take in his appearance. It's obvious that he just got out of bed, as he's only wearing his boxers and they look like he just put them on. His hair is flat on one side of his head, while the other side sports a haphazard style of fine locks sticking out in strange angles and directions. And the expression on his face tells me that he's less than happy about being woken up, especially when he locks his blood shot eyes on my own and crosses his arms in a pose reminiscent of his father.

"Well?" he asks sourly.

Licking my lips nervously, a scratch at the back of my head, suddenly unsure of what I should do next. I really want to share my plans with him, to hear what he thinks even though I have a feeling he's going to be less than enthused with the direction I've decided to take in my life. But on the other hand, he seems to be in a really pissed off mood, and having a conversation with a grouchy Trunks is almost as bad as trying to have a conversation with Vegeta on a normal occasion. Still, I didn't come here for nothing and I'm not going to let his foul mood and unkempt appearance intimidate me. I'm turning over a new leaf in life, and that includes Trunks. At least, in my head, that's what I think. Gathering what's left on my courage, I ask him if I can come in.

"Fine, I suppose."

With that, he unlatches the door and pushes it to the side, letting me in. I slide past his body, suddenly aware of our close proximity, before he backs away slightly and starts heading back in the direction he had come from. Following him, we turn down a short hallway and suddenly, I find myself in his bedroom, of all places.

The room is a complete wreck, even worse than mine. There are clothes wadded up all over the floor, and old magazines and papers scattered around, soiled with what looks to be water stains. The shades are drawn, so there's hardly any light coming into the dimly lit interior, and the whole room reeks of alcohol, vomit, and a musty odor I suddenly recognize as sex. The first thing that crosses my mind at that realization is who would want to have sex in such a mess. The second thought that crosses my mind is that Trunks is still drunk, or he's suffering from a really nasty hangover, in the middle of the week.

"Don't you have to work?" I blurt out while I watch him crawl onto his bed.

"Who the fuck cares about work? I don't do anything. Mommy dearest still pulls all the strings. She can handle one day without having her precious Trunkie-poo to push around."

His sarcastic tone isn't lost on me and I cringe inwardly when I realize more clearly just how hemmed in Trunks must feel sometimes, being the heir to such a huge global conglomerate without ever being given the choice of whether or not it was something he wanted to become. It's just been expected of him. On the same hand, however, I can't condone his utter lack of responsibility or concern for his own well-being, especially after having our discussion at my brother's birthday celebration. Especially when I…when I care about him so much.

"Were you out drinking last night?"

He laughs bitterly at me before collapsing on his side and covering his eyes with the back of his arm.

"What the fuck does it look like? I went and got wasted, and I have to say, the experience was…it was…fuck, I don't know. I got drunk, brought some girls home, we had sex, we drank some more, we had sex some more, and I passed out. Apparently, they found they're way out 'cause when I woke up to puke around two o'clock this afternoon, they were gone. Fucking whores. Weren't even good lays. In it for the money. Well, I'm not hooking up with some slut at the bar with marriage in mind. To hell with that. They can get a piece of me, and that's it. I'm through."

His caustic comments and acidic tone make me wince. I've never…heard this side of Trunks before. I've seen glimpses of it, but still, when we used to get drunk together, he never acted like this when he woke up with a hangover. And to hear him speak so negatively of the woman he has no qualms with using, I wonder perhaps, what the root of all of Trunks' self-destructive behavior is coming from all of a sudden. And why I've been too blind to really see it, when it's probably been slowly festering inside him for some time, well before we started having our issues driving a wedge between the two of us.

Looking at him, I feel a mix of pity and disgust. Again, I wonder why he drives himself to end up in such a condition. I could understand it when we were younger, when the irrationality of youth and the desire to fit into a crowd of people where mitigating factors. I can't understand it now, yet I know that he isn't the only person in our age group who hasn't discovered how poisonous and dangerous these stupid games are.

"Trunks, why man? I mean, I don't understand. Do you _like_ ending up like this?"

He pulls his arm away from his face and sits up awkwardly, looking at me…watching me. I feel…insecure, nervous. The intensity of his eyes…he can pierce me with one look and I'm utterly within his disposal, just as I have always been. He's angry and unreadable at the same time.

"Is that why you came Goten? To put yourself above me once again? I'm so God fucking sick of your attitude. What makes you any better than me, huh? If you're going to act like you're some virtuous asswipe, get the hell out of here. I don't need to hear it from you."

Shaking my head slightly to clear it, I step away from his bed. It's pointless to even try to understand him when he's like this because he won't listen and we'll just end up having yet another fight. It's at times like this if I wonder what the point is to stay locked in a friendship that's been going sour for years. But unlike Nezumi's used car lot, I can't just leave my best friend hanging high and dry, like I did when I walked out on him at the club. I can't leave that part of me which knows somewhere, there's a Trunks that is possibly reaching out for help even if he doesn't realize it yet. At the same time, seeing him acting like this and talking down to me is like a painful slap in the face of all that is sacred between the two of us. It's hard to endure, and I wish I could punch some sense into his head, yet all I do is take the easy road out and change the subject.

"Um…so, I…I have some news," I stammer out, hoping he takes the bait and doesn't decide to force me into a confrontation.

"Big fucking deal. You came here to bother me over something as trivial as news? What, is Videl pregnant again? Or did somebody die?"

Well, it's not exactly the response I was looking for, but it gives me the guts to carry on. Smoothing my hair back as he waits grumpily on his bed, I smile awkwardly before answering.

"Not exactly. I mean, Videl and Gohan aren't going to be having another kid, as far as I know. And if somebody died that we knew, I probably wouldn't be the bearer of bad news. It's actually about me. I quit my job."

I watch as the anger on his face slowly dissolves, replaced by a look of incredulity.

"Seriously? You're not making a joke out of this are you?"

"Yeah, I'm serious. I gave that fucktard Nezumi my letter of resignation and my two weeks notice."

He suddenly grins at me and the tension in the room bursts like a bubble, leaving a sensation of excitement and happiness. Relaxing, I return his smile.

"What you really should have done was given him the finger and told him what an absolute horror he was to work for. And then you should have powered up a ki blast and leveled his tacky car lot."

"The thought crossed my mind."

His grin slowly melts to a normal smile, and he pats the spot next to him on the bed. Stepping over his trash, I sit down on the proffered area, pushing away my reservations about the possibly soiled bedding.

"So, why didn't you? Well, I suppose you want to have a good recommendation coming from him. I'm telling you Goten, as a friend, don't expect much from him even though you quit using a proper method. He's an ass, and he's probably sulking because the guy who was making him the most money decided he could find greener pastures elsewhere."

"Yeah, I kind of figured that. But, it doesn't really matter. It was more that I didn't want to end up on West City's most wanted criminal list if I left the place in a literal blaze of glory."

He laughs at that and slaps my back.

"Fuck, you wouldn't have had to worry! My mom's got great lawyers. How do you think dad managed to stay out of prison whenever he destroyed something in the city because he'd get pissed off?"

"No offense Trunks, but I highly doubt a prison would be able to contain your dad. I know he's a good guy and all, but I don't have any doubts he'd use his ki blasts to break out."

"True enough."

We sit in silence for a few minutes before Trunks decides to speak up.

"So, do you need help finding a job? Like I've told you before, I could get you a really nice position at Capsule. It wouldn't have to be in sales, either. You do have a bachelor's degree in communications, not that that really matters."

"Umm, well about that…I actually already have a job lined up."

He narrows his eyes a bit and takes in a deep breath. I don't know if he's irritated because I refused his offer of a job working at Capsule once again or because I actually managed to find something myself without coming to him for help. Either way, his irrationality over me getting a job has been one of the sticking points in our relationship, and I still can't understand why he continues to take my lack of interest or desire to work at Capsule in a non-existent position so personally. My stomach bottoms out slightly when I think about what he'll say when he hears the job I've taken and what my plans are.

"Where are you working? At that Centrix place you applied at?"

Centrix? He remembered that I had applied there? That had been months ago.

"No. I'm going to be an assistant activities director for the West City Boys and Girls Club."

Silence. Glancing upward, towards Trunks' face, I can see he wasn't expecting that answer at all. Waving my hand in front of it, he suddenly snaps his head away and grabs my arm.

"What?! Whoa, hang on a second…I'm missing something here. What would possess you to ever go back to that place with the screaming kids, where half of them still shit in their own pants? That place…you could get a way better job working behind a desk at Capsule. So why won't you ever take me up on an offer? Do you like making yourself miserable at those jobs you take? Are you that much of a masochist?"

Yanking my arm out of his grip, I grit my teeth and slowly form my hands into fists.

"Because…it wouldn't be a job and you know it. I can't do that to you or your mom. And I don't like making myself miserable. I just want to prove to everybody that I don't need everyone looking out for me like I'm two years old. For God's sake Trunks, would you like it if every time you tried to do something, you had people offering to help you at every turn of the way like you're incapable of being independent? Why can't you understand that I'm trying to prove I can be just as successful as…as you? And who said that I hated working at the boys and girls club? As I recall, you were the one who thought working there was a joke because it was something you would never do. Well, I'm not you Trunks. I _liked_ working there. And this new job will pay comparable to what I was making for Nezumi. It's an administrative position, a _respectable_ job."

Standing up, I kick some of his dirty clothes and magazines out of the way as I stride away, trying to put what else I want to tell him in words and terms he can understand. Turning around to face him, I push my fists into my pockets before I let the rest of my news out.

"And while we're on this topic, I'm going back to school to become a teacher."

As I expect, he bursts out laughing.

"You, a teacher? You could barely pass high school, and you struggled for almost six years before you graduated from community college. How the hell are you going to teach?"

I close my eyes and try to keep my frustration at bay. It doesn't help that I had those same doubts in my head when Gohan was fishing for information about going back to school. However, I've since decided that even if it's a difficult path, I can become what I want and that I'm smarter than most people give me credit for. True, I still have my own doubts about that, but I've come to a point in my own life where self-doubt can't be a part of it anymore because all it does is hold me back.

"I'm quite aware that school wasn't easy for me. Sure, I didn't graduate with a 4.0, but I _did_ make it. And I can do it again if I put my heart into it."

"You're…serious?"

"Yeah, I'm serious. Why would I joke about something like this? I just thought I'd tell you because I've always told you things first. I just wish you'd give me the courtesy to not make fun of my choices just because they aren't something you would do. In case you haven't realized it by now, I'm _not_ you."

He blinks at me owlishly, as if that thought had never crossed his mind. And maybe it hasn't. Until recently, I had never given it much thought myself. We've always done things together, and for the majority of my life, I just followed Trunks' example because he was my closest friend and I…I idolized him. The most painful part of everything that's been happening these past few years is how much I've come to rely on him for my own self-validation. Now that I've actively started to assert some autonomy away from him, it's as though he's never realized how much he relied on me for the very same purpose. And the truth is, I still want to be close to Trunks. Not as the easily duped and manipulated sidekick, but as his equal. And deep down inside, I want so much more than that. If he would just sit back and examine things, he'd probably realize it himself. He understands me the way no one else could, and the same could be said for me as well, yet there is this potential for growth that both terrifies me and excites me. If only…if only he would just…see.

"Goten…I didn't mean it like that. Why are we like this, huh? Why do we always have to fight?"

Now it's my turn to blink at him in surprise. He wants to know what the problem is? Well, there isn't an easy answer for that. Shrugging my shoulders, I act like I have no idea, when in truth, I think it's just because we're struggling to find our own self-identities and the truth of what our lives hold for us is scary. But even I don't know the reason because the only way to discover it would be to have a serious heart to heart chat with Trunks about all the things that have been bothering me about him, about us, and that will never happen with the way he's been acting lately.

I watch as he lies back on his bed, his face pointed towards the ceiling, he eyes tightly closed against the blurry light allowed into the dim interior of the room.

"If you really want to be a teacher, than…than good for you. It's just…I've never really imagined you doing something like that. Maybe it's because I _have_ thought of you like you're my twin. But…I guess you are right. We aren't the same. We haven't been for a while. Sometimes, I really miss the old you, Goten. The one who wasn't so concerned about doing the right thing and being responsible. You make me look bad, Chibi."

I don't say anything about that comment. Taking my hands out of my pockets, I decide it's time to leave. There isn't anything left to say and Trunks needs to sleep off his drunken hangover. Accidentally stepping on a crumpled porn magazine, it crunches underfoot, alerting Trunks to my departure.

"Are you leaving?"

"Yeah."

Moving towards the doorway, I hear Trunks swear under his breath before he lurches off of his bed and stumbles to the adjacent bathroom, tripping over dirty clothes and debris before finally making it.

He's puking. In the toilet. I can hear each and every wretch, and it bothers me to listen to his body rejecting the alcohol he consumed late last night and well into the morning. Tightening my mouth, I pivot around and exit his room, searching out for the guest bathroom. Finding it, I switch on the light and open a cupboard, pulling out a towel and a washcloth. As soon as I finish dampening the cloth, I leave the bathroom and head toward his kitchen where I grab a pot. Slowly, I make my way back to his bedroom, only to find him sprawled across his bed, panting slightly, flecks of saliva and vomit on his pale lips.

"I thought you left," he replies weakly from the bed.

Stepping towards the bed, I stand next to the edge, my knees touching the mattress. Making a decision, I crawl over him and settle myself next to his body. Taking the damp washcloth, I wipe away the puke on his face and hand him the basin, which he gratefully takes and places next to his head.

"I can't leave you when you're puking your guts out. What if you accidentally chocked on it or something?"

"Sick," he mutters before letting out a tremendous yawn.

Slowly, his eyes flutter shut and his body relaxes into the pillows. Pulling away from him slightly, I search the bed for a blanket that doesn't look like it has too many stains of god knows what on it. Not finding any, I shift on the bed and lay crosswise, examining the floor before finding what I'm looking for. Grabbing the blanket, I flip it over Trunks, who mumbles a thank you. Crossing my legs, I sink into the soft mattress and find myself buttressed up against Trunks hip. We're so close, I could lean over and brush his hair out of his face and then kiss him on the forehead. Slowly, I start tilting down in that general direction before my brain catches up with me. Jerking backwards slightly, I stiffen with a realization that isn't new.

I really _would_ like to kiss him. Just once. And not in a chaste way either. The way he kisses the girls he meets up with at the bars. The way he licks their outer lips before slyly making his way inside their mouth, teasing the inside with his own tongue. Nipping, biting, hot…I want what they've had.

…

I really am gay…at least for my best friend, that is…and maybe that isn't _such_ a bad thing.

But, my waking fantasies will probably never become a reality. Even though I really can't deny the attraction I feel for Trunks, which I know stems from our long standing relationship, there is no way that I would allow myself to become like one of those girls, to be used and tossed aside. I guess, in my own way, I'm an old fashioned sort of guy and you just don't screw around with people unless it's a committed relationship with feelings that go far and beyond simple lust. Trunks isn't ready for that and even if he was, what would he think if I told him of my apparent and very real attraction towards him? I'm too afraid to find out. So it will just have to remain a secret, maybe until I die.

Sighing, I push those particular thoughts out of my head as I slowly sink down into the cushiness of his bed, stretching my body out beside his.

"Chibi?"

"Hmmm?" I whisper.

"Why can't I find somebody like you?"

Blinking, I glance over towards him.

"What do you mean?"

"You…you put up with me and you accept me for who I am, faults and everything. I don't have to pretend around you, and you aren't after money, fame, or power. You're just you and you like me for me. Except…"

He stops mid-sentence and moves his head back and forth against his pillow, making his hair even more of a mess.

"Never mind."

I want to ask him what he was going to say, but I know when not to push my luck.

"Remember that promise we made when we were like ten and eleven years old? The one where we would never leave each other and stay together forever?"

That comment takes me by surprise. I can vaguely recall promising something like that when we were playing outside near my parents house and got separated somehow. It wasn't anything major, but for some reason, Trunks had been really shook up about it and so we promised to always be together, no matter what. We swore to each other under the tree next to our secret spot by the lake. It was a childhood promise, nothing more. Something easily forgotten as life moves inexhaustibly forward, shaping and molding the paths we are eventually to take up. I had treated it as such, but apparently Trunks had not.

"Yeah, I remember it. Why?"

"Do you still…will you be with me ten or twenty years down the road?"

I nod my head yes and try to reassure him.

"I don't know. I feel like I'm losing you, Chibi. You're leaving me behind and I can't catch up. Now you're going to go off to school and you'll meet someone. You'll forget all about me."

I have no idea where he's getting these ideas from, but his words strike a resonance within me because I have thought the same thing about Trunks. He's moving away from me and soon, he won't be my Trunks any longer.

Pushing my hand under the blanket, I find Trunks' cold one and wrap my fingers around it.

"Trunks, I swear to you that I will never leave you. I…promise. No matter what happens, I'll always be there for you."

It's a serious commitment and part of me balks over my choice of words. How can I make such a promise when the circumstances between us seem so tenuous? Yet I know that I meant every word I just uttered. I…love him, as a friend. Maybe part of the problem is due to the fact that I want to extend that love, only just realizing that facet which has probably been looking me in the face for the last couple of years. It seems so fucking impossible.

Squeezing his hand, I'm surprised when he squeezes back.

"Thanks…Chibi. That's…it's just what I needed to hear."

I watch as he drifts off to sleep before I slowly get out of the bed. Pulling the covers tight around his body, I trace his face with my index finger, stopping on his chin before taking my hand away. Backing up, I leave his room and then his apartment, flying back to my own place to think about how everything is going to change once more.

I only hope we can survive it together, even with that promise binding me to him.

_I hope you liked the chapter! Next chapter, Goten's adjusting to his new job and finds out if he's going to school or not. And Trunks is…Trunks! Also, please be kind and review if you would like. Tell me if you like how it's going, or if there is a direction you think it needs to go in! Thanks so much!_


	7. Chapter 7

_Here is an update after two months of not publishing a new one. I'm sorry for the delay. I posted on my profile that this story was on temporary hiatus as I moved to South Korea, but I don't think very many people read it anyway. Well, it's off hiatus. I will try to be better at the updating. And thank you for the sudden upsurge in interest about this story. I hope the length of this chapter makes up for the lack of updating._

_Disclaimer: Toriyama Akira owns all rights and privileges in regards to Dragon Ball Z._

* * *

_September…_

Have you ever thought seriously to yourself about how life has a way of flowing on, no matter how much turmoil or uneasiness a person might be going through at the time? It doesn't stop just because there are issues that have to be dealt with. In a way, it's both a blessing and a curse. It's a blessing because life doesn't give you the opportunity to systematically dwell on the imperfections that show up as pitfalls in the middle of the road. It's a curse because those areas that could use improvement sometimes end up being put to the side of the road and forgotten about until something happens that makes you remember.

Running through West City's Central Park, I find myself wondering that very thing, about the flow of time and events related to my own life. Lately, I haven't had the time to seriously dwell on Trunks's and my relationship. At the same time, I've also been spending less time with him and it makes me feel guilty, that promise I made to him coming back to haunt me. It isn't that I don't want to make sure he's looking after himself, but with taking up the responsibilities of a new job, I've been so busy adjusting to the changes surrounding my own existence, he's somehow been pushed off to the back burner. What does that make me? A liar?

I've been working as the Activities Director for the Boys and Girls Club for close to a month now. When I had worked there before, I had been an activities assistant, which meant that I helped set up the events that the director planned for the kids to do. The other part of my job centered on explaining and teaching the activities and crafts so the kids knew what they were supposed to do. As the director, it's completely different. I plan all of the events for the kids and on top of that, I have to help write and coordinate the budget, as well as direct and supervise the five activities assistants that work underneath me.

Never having been in a position where I'm in charge of a department, the job is much more daunting then I thought it would be. Most of the time, I think I've been fucking things up for everyone. The other part of the time, I try to rack my brain for things we can do with the groups of kids that come to the club either for help in school, as part of an after school program, for childcare, or because they want and need a mentor to become a part of their life. And instead of calling up and talking to Trunks about my own internal doubts about my abilities, I've taken up running through the park after work to help relieve the stress of my new job, especially now that the air has cooled considerably and the autumn foliage has started to peak out against the backdrop of the setting sun. It's almost…romantic.

Blushing slightly at such an uncharacteristic thought, especially when Trunks's face looms in to the forefront, I veer off to another path and start running alongside the river that divides West City in half. Quashing my stupid thoughts, I glance at the flowing water out of the corner of my eye, noticing movement as a flock of ducks take flight, pattering across the water and leaving a path of ripples before they jump in to the air on their journey south for the winter. It's at this point that I come to a bridge and cross the expanse of water as I make my way to the Southside of the city where I reside.

In a metaphorical sense, I sometimes feel that the river represents portions of the changes I have been making. Once I cross it, there is no going back. I can only move forward, and I can only look backwards across it to look for direction when I find myself at a point where I don't know whether to turn right or left. Smiling wryly, I shake my head and slow down once I reach the stoplight at the intersection of the south gate for the park and the street I need to cross to get back to my apartment. As soon as the light changes, I cross the line of traffic and turn right at a side street. After a few minutes of walking, I reach my apartment building and hop up the steps, taking them two at a time. Fumbling around for a few minutes, I pull my apartment keys out of a pocket sewn into the arm of my spandex running shirt and unlock my door, grabbing the mail sticking out of my mail slot.

My apartment is dim and once again, I have let a mess accumulate across the floor of my living room: papers, a few empty pizza boxes, and some of my dirty work shirts and pants that make a trail to my bedroom. Well, I have never been known for my neatness and as of late, I've been so busy with work that the thought of picking up after myself doesn't feel like an enjoyable choice compared to stripping down to my underwear and flipping on the television. Considering the fact that no one comes over to my place anyway, besides a few random visits from Gohan and my dad, there isn't much point in keeping it immaculate. I suppose it would be a different story if I were more like Trunks and had people over on a regular basis, but I'm not and I have no friends besides him, Uub, and Marron.

Letting go of that depressing thought, I walk over to the kitchen and throw my mail on top of it before heading to the fridge to take out a soda. Letting out a sigh, I pop open the tab on the can and listen to the hiss of carbonation as it escapes the confined space. I chug it down in three gulps and then crush the can in my hand, throwing it on top of my overflowing garbage bin. With that, I head towards my bathroom and strip until I'm completely naked and step inside my shower, turning on the water and not bothering to wait until it's warm before stepping inside the stream.

A few minutes later, I'm out of the water and drying off, trying not to waste time so I can finally sit back and relax before heading off to bed. Mentally, I thank Kami above that it's Friday and I don't have to think about work until tomorrow when I have to sit down and push out a projected schedule for the following month. It means I'll have to go to the office so I can use my computer, since the ancient one my mom bought me as a high school graduation present died last year and I haven't had the money to buy a new one. Sighing, I internally change the subject by shaking the water out of my thick hair and thinking about what I want to do with the rest of my Friday night: order another stack of pizzas and watch the movie I rented two weeks ago or skip food entirely and go to bed. Heading towards my bedroom to my dresser, I pull out a pair of boxers without looking at them and stuff my legs inside, pushing them up until they are securely around my hips while I mentally weigh my options. I _am _hungry but I'm also exhausted and I have a feeling I'll just fall asleep halfway through the movie. Sucks.

Then I think, the hell with it. I'll watch the damn movie since I paid the money for the privilege. Besides, I'm going to have to pay the fucking fine because I've had it a week and half past when it was supposed to be due. Leaving my bedroom, I wander over to my coffee table and throw a pile of papers to the floor as I look for the movie. Finding it, I turn on the DVD player and push the disc inside. Spinning back around, I flop across my futon and pull a pillow behind my head, grabbing the TV remote and flipping it on. I'm about to press play on the menu for the movie when something unexpected happens: my doorbell rings.

At first, I have this feeling that it's just my imagination. However, when it rings a second and then a third time, I snap out of my stupor and leap out of my lounging position, running to open the door without consciously thinking about how I'm dressed. Grabbing the door handle, I pull it open only to find myself face to face with Trunks.

"Oh…umm, hi," I great sheepishly, automatically scratching the back of my head out of nervousness. He looks…immaculate and _hot_. Consciously, I balk at _that_ particular thought, especially when I can feel my cheeks heat up as blood rushes in. God, I'm turning into a fucking middle school student with a secret crush and that, quite frankly, is as ridiculous as it is absurd. Controlling my reaction, I step to the side of the door.

"Do you wanna come in?" I ask nonchalantly.

He rolls his eyes at the apparent idiocy of my question.

"Well of course I want to come in. You don't think I traveled half way across town to stand on your doorstep like some sort of retard, do you?"

With that said, he steps inside the threshold of my small apartment and I close the door behind him. Not sure what to do or why he decided to come over unannounced, I slide past him and head over to my kitchen counter, where I lean up against it, sizing him up. A few minutes pass with neither one of us saying anything: me because I don't know what to say for once and Trunks because he's suddenly snickering at me. Feeling self- conscious, I run a hand over my face, wondering if there is something sticking to it. All that does is make Trunks's snickers turn in to a snort of laughter.

"What?" I finally ask, my voice tinged with a mixture of hostility, annoyance, and embarrassment.

"Jeez Chibi, lighten up. You're so testy."

"Well, it's kind of hard not to be when someone's laughing at you," I respond grouchily.

"And it's kind of hard not to laugh when your best friend is only dressed in a pair of boxers which are on backwards and that read 'Super Lover' across the ass. Planning on having an orgy tonight?"

Completely mortified, I look down and realize he's telling the truth. Fuck. I can feel my skin heat up as a full-bodied blush of humiliation suddenly bursts forward. There isn't much I can do to save face, so I pretend that's what I had planned all along.

"Yeah, sure Trunks. You're just a bit earlier then planned. The girls haven't arrived yet."

I realize that he knows I'm lying, but I can tell he's impressed that I didn't follow through with my instincts to bolt inside my room and pull on a pair of pants. His smirk turns in to a slight smile of appreciation before he crosses his arms and assesses me frankly.

"Chibi, why don't you go get dressed. Forget about the orgy. You're coming out with me tonight. No arguments either."

I blink in confusion before I realize he's stepped in closer to where I'm standing. Grabbing my arm gently, he pulls me away from the counter and then lightly pushes me inside my bedroom.

"Just find something casual." He tells me before he shuts the door, leaving me alone with the mess around my feet and my thoughts. I'm still getting over the surprise of him showing up out of the blue and the embarrassment of being caught with my boxers on backwards, but I'm more caught up in wondering why he wants to go out and if I have to watch him get drunk. Making my way to the closet, I grab a pair of jeans, a blue and green rugby shirt and a pair of running shoes. Slowly pulling on my clothes, my reverie is interrupted by a brisk rap on the door.

"Hurry up Chibi, I'm starving."

I grumble something unintelligible and finish getting dressed. Pausing in front of the small mirror hanging on the wall, I comb my hair with my fingers, trying to flatten the piece of hair that likes to stick up no matter what I do. Giving up, I finally open my bedroom door only to find Trunks sitting at my kitchen counter going through my stack of mail.

"Hey, don't you know it's illegal to go through someone's mail?" I grumble out in irritation. He just looks up and flashes me a grin before throwing me a letter he managed to pick out.

"Relax. I didn't open anything. But I think you might want to read that one. The rest are just junk."

Flipping the envelope over to the front, my eyes widen slightly. It's from West City University and I know what it is about. My gut clenches up in unease and before I really think about what I'm doing, I toss it back to Trunks, who gives me a questioning look.

"I…I can't open it."

For once, instead of ridiculing me about my apparent cowardice, he gives me an understanding look and fingers the letter thoughtfully in his hands.

"Do you want me to open it?"

Letting out a sigh, I nod my head yes.

"Just don't…if it's bad, don't tell me about it, okay?"

We look each other in the eyes and I'm relieved when I see understanding and concern instead of scorn or amusement. He licks his lips and then slowly proceeds to break the seal on the envelope. I try to look away, but my own morbid curiosity won't leave me alone. I watch as he pulls it out and quickly scans the letter. Putting it down on the counter, he turns and glances at me seriously.

"It says that you were accepted."

Accepted? I don't know what to make of that…I wasn't expecting… Taking a deep breath, I walk forwards and swipe the letter off the counter and read it myself, not able to believe the validity behind Trunks's words. When I finally get to the end of it, I let it go and watch as it flutters back on top of the counter, my heart beating fast before a smile breaks across my lips.

"Congratulations."

I blink slowly, my eyes focusing in on Trunks as he unexpectedly grabs my hand and squeezes it, his thumb running gently across the skin on the back of it. Unused to such…intimate gestures from him, I selfishly let him touch me for a few more seconds before gently pulling away. In the back of my mind, I figure it doesn't hurt to give in once in a while to the things that have slowly started to become more apparent the moment I began acknowledging where my thoughts and ideas have become centered in regards to my friend. He doesn't have to know. End of story.

"Goten…I'm proud of you. I know I acted like a complete ass when you came over to tell me you quite working for Nezumi. You're going to be great. So, let's go out and celebrate."

Caught by surprise from his apology, I nod my head dumbly while he stands up from the bar stool and walks towards the door. Following him outside, I lock my apartment door and head down the stairs towards his waiting car. Opening the car door, I slip inside and buckle my seatbelt while he turns on the ignition and then pulls away from the curb.

"Just Trunks…let's not go out to the clubs tonight. I'm tired." I say it even though I'm afraid of pissing him off. However, he just gives me an understanding smile.

"No problem. I told you, we're going out to celebrate for _you_. So, whatever you want, it's fine with me. There is just one thing though: you had better pick out a place to eat or I might end up dying from lack of blood sugar."

Sensing the tension melt, I grin and relax against the cushion of the leather covering the car seat.

"How about Chinese?" I ask.

"Sure! I know a great little place. They don't have a buffet though. I hope you don't mind?"

That doesn't really matter to me. All that matters at this moment is spending time with my friend, which I haven't been able to do because of my job. I have a feeling that this is partially to apologize for our last couple of times hanging out together. I am…happy.

It doesn't take long before we are driving down the busy business district of West City. We pass a number of high-end restaurants, before Trunks parks the car.

"Come on Goten, we're here. We've got to walk a couple of blocks, but the food is worth it."

Like a couple of blocks are going to kill me. I am, after all, half Saiyan. Stepping out of the car, we both walk past more restaurants and clubs before Trunks turns down an ally partially concealed against the backdrop of the rest of the neighborhood. Eventually, he stops in front of a small door and pulls it open. We walk up about five flights of stairs before eventually reaching the top floor. At first, I think he must have made some sort of mistake. As soon as he opens the door, I notice the simple tables and booths crowded inside the small dining room covered with clichéd red and white checked tablecloths. There are a few patrons eating, but the restaurant itself is nothing special, not at all a place I would expect Trunks to recommend. However, as soon as a short, old woman walks from the back brining a tray filled with delicious smelling dishes, my stomach grumbles audibly, much to my chagrin. Trunks laughs and the woman smiles warmly before handing the food over to her customers. After she finishes, she slowly walks over to where we are standing.

"Trunks! You never come here anymore! You must be starving half to death, you look so skinny."

I'm amazed when she stands up on her tiptoes and pinches the skin of his forearm. I'm even more amazed when he lets her do it without batting an eyelash.

"Look at this!" She grabs a small piece of skin and pulls on it. "You have hardly any fat on your bones. You need to eat! What would your mother say if she saw you like this? Sit! Sit! I will have Meng make up some steamed dumplings with shrimp."

Just like that, she hurries away as fast her short legs will carry her. Giving Trunks a look of curiosity, he just shrugs his shoulders and slides inside one of the booths lining the wall. Motioning for me to join him, I take up the seat across from him and glance around.

"What was that all about? She thinks you're too skinny? How'd you ever find this place?"

Trunks just shakes his head and throws me a menu before he starts scanning the list of items. I follow suit, my stomach growling non-stop while I try and figure out what to eat. Everything sounds good, and by the smell and look of the other customers' food, it probably tastes delicious as well. I'm still looking at the menu when the old woman returns with a pot of tea and five baskets of steamed dumplings, a sure sign that Trunks has eaten here many times beforehand.

"Here you are Trunks. Meng also thinks you are too skinny."

With that, I snicker, only to earn a reproachful look from the woman and a slight quirk of Trunks's lips.

"Is this your boyfriend, Trunks? You had better teach him some manners."

With that, she slaps my wrist with the menu she had just grabbed from Trunks. Feeling embarrassed over being mistaken as Trunks's boyfriend _and_ for having my wrist slapped, I blush and pull the menu up closer to my face. Apparently, today is the day reserved for utmost mortification and humiliation. Ignoring both the woman and Trunks while he orders, I try to concentrate on what I want to eat, but my mind doesn't want to focus and the letters that swim in front of my eyes. I don't know how long I sit there before I suddenly sense Trunks pushing his knee against my own. I glance at him and find the menu being forcefully taken away from me.

"Hmmm, this one seems to lack courage. Maybe you had better not waste your time on him." She says boldly, giving me a hard look before turning away. At that moment, I want the ground to open up and swallow me whole.

"Fuck Trunks, what the hell?" I spit out indignantly, before slouching further in to the cushions of the booth.

I know exactly what he plans on doing. The second I finish my statement, he lets out a burst of laughter before leaning over and grabbing my arm to pull me out of my slouch.

"Come on Goten, don't let Peony get to you. She's just an old woman who likes to spend her free time trying to personally take care of the people who come in and eat at her restaurant."

"Yeah, well…she thinks you had better forget about me. And…and _boyfriend_?" I hiss out. That part was completely unexpected. I couldn't believe she would ever think that Trunks would be interested in a relationship with another man.

"Give it up Chibi. It's just because I sometimes bring dates here, but that hardly ever happens and she thinks I spend too much time alone. Besides, would you have a problem if I did sometimes bring _boyfriends_ here?"

I blink stupidly. I don't know if he's just making light of the situation or if he's serious. He's always been hard to read, and I don't want to make the mistake of mixing up his intentions.

"I guess…no. I mean, if you had a boyfriend and brought him here, it isn't any of my business."

At that moment, he lets go of my arm and leans back against the back of the booth. I can tell that he's pleased with my statement, which only confuses me more. A little over a month ago he was telling me how disgusting it would be to kiss a guy, specifically me. Now, he's asking me if I would be okay with him having a boyfriend instead of a girlfriend. Not knowing what to think, I grab a napkin and start fiddling with it, bending and folding it to create different shapes.

"Chibi."

I drop my napkin and look up, noticing for the first time that he's been watching me and my nervous habit of having to have something in my hands when I'm unsure of the situation I find myself in.

"What?"

"You…surprise me."

I blush for what feels like the millionth time tonight. Trying to push away my uneasiness towards this particular topic, especially when it seems so close to the thoughts I have been having as of late, I shrug and look away, pretending that the Chinese print on the wall next to our booth is extremely interesting.

"Goten."

I try to ignore him because I'm tired of feeling both uneasy and this queasy sensation of…hope. However, Trunks isn't one who likes being ignored. I almost jump out of my skin when I notice…his foot rubbing against my calf in a leisurely and much practiced motion.

"Don't ignore me Chibi. It just makes you look like you're afraid of something. What's there to be afraid of?"

I purse my lips slightly and let out a low sigh, trying to simultaneously prove to Trunks that I am not afraid of anything he should have to say as well as trying to school my face and other parts of my body which are suddenly reacting to the stimulus of being touched in such an…erotic way, for lack of a better description. If he would glance under the table, there would be no way out of trying to explain my very apparent reaction towards the way he's rubbing my calf muscle.

"Would it make you nervous to be around me if I told you I decided that girls just don't do it for me anymore? Would it…disgust you?"

I want him to stop playing these games with me. I don't pull my leg away, and suddenly it dawns on me that he's testing me. I don't know why, but I have a feeling that what I say or how I act will change things between us either for the better or for the worse. Steeling my resolve, I sit up straighter and peer inside his eyes, my brown ones suddenly feeling lost in a gaze that traps and encompasses me.

"I…it wouldn't disgust me."

"Would you be jealous?"

I'm not prepared for that question. Would I be? Truthfully, yes. However, I'm not going to tell that to him, lest I give myself away.

"No."

"I think you're not telling the truth Chibi. But…, we'll save that discussion for later. I'm starving."

And just like that, he pulls his foot away from my calf and acts like he hadn't just played footsie with me for close to fifteen minutes. Letting out an internal sigh of relief, it takes me a moment to realize that we aren't alone. Glancing to my left, I see Peony standing with two other servers carrying five gigantic trays loaded with food. How they were able to cook that much that quickly boggles my mind.

"Are you two done fondling each other? Trunks, I don't mind it when you bring dates here, but I do mind it when you act like you're in hotel room. If you're that eager, you can always rent a room next door after you're done eating, although I don't see what you're so excited about with this one."

Feeling my anger build, I level her a death glare, which only earns a small smile back in return.

"Hmm, I see you do have some backbone hiding somewhere. Well, you'll need it if you want to have Trunks. He's quite a heartbreaker. The weak ones don't last long."

I want to punch her and I'm about to lunge, when Trunks grabs my thigh and pushes me back down on top of the booth. Humiliated at losing my temper, I grunt slightly while the servers put some of the food in front of the two of us.

As soon as they leave, I start loading my plate, pissed at myself and pissed at Trunks for both taking me out to a place that has brought forward the uncomfortable topic of sexuality and for his desire to test and ridicule me. So far, my celebration dinner has only managed to make me angry. Digging in, I eat three trays of the dumplings and drink four cups of tea before I hear Trunks's voice.

"Chibi, please don't be angry with me."

I straighten up in my seat and glare at him, unable to say anything until I finish chewing and swallowing my food. Gulping it down, I wipe my mouth with a napkin and cross my arms.

"Is this some kind of joke to you? I don't think it's very funny. You shouldn't play games with people's minds like that. I…I don't understand you. Why Trunks? Why do you always do this to me?" The last part comes out as more of a plea for understanding. I have this feeling that he won't answer me, something he does when the topic for discussion delves too deeply within his own consciousness. However, this night seems to be one filled with the unexpected.

"It's not a joke Chibi. You…you hide what you really feel so well that the only way I ever figure out things about you is when I goad you into saying something you normally wouldn't. Maybe I took it a little far tonight. That wasn't my intention. I just want us to have a good time. I want you to be…happy."

"So what are you trying to say? What does having a boyfriend or being gay have to do with any of this? If you want me to be happy, then…just be yourself and stop asking irrelevant questions."

He looks at me questioningly and then slides his hand across the table, grabbing mine before I have a chance to withdraw it and hide it where he can't touch it.

"I don't think it's irrelevant, Goten. However, I don't want to talk about this here. Let's finish eating and just do something stupid."

Grumbling something unintelligible, I finish the food in front of me and try to squash the thoughts that keep running through my mind. First and foremost, I wonder what he's up to and if he's somehow figured out the truth about me. Well, in all honesty, it's always been hard to keep secrets from Trunks simply because he knows me better then most people. Still, I can't understand where any of this is suddenly coming from.

We eat in silence, finishing everything, which apparently doesn't surprise Peony when she shows up with the bill.

"Hmm, he eats almost as much as you do, Trunks. Maybe you like this one because he has good stamina. No matter what people say, that does matter in a relationship."

I cringe inwardly. It's like she's become my own personal plague, especially when her words bring to mind things that I shouldn't be thinking about in a public restaurant. I'm about to stand in order to leave when Trunks gives me a look and then turns to Peony with the money.

"Yeah, but really, sex is just sex. It's the same no matter who you do it with. Really, a relationship should be about trust and friendship first. Goten's my friend and he has been since we were kids. It's nothing more then that Peony."

I give Trunks an incredulous look that Peony also mirrors. That was the last thing I could ever imagine him saying and yet, that's exactly what came out of his mouth. Shaking my head, I watch as she recovers and then leans over and heartily slaps him on the back.

"It's about time you got your head on straight. Your poor mother has probably been worried sick that you'd spend the rest of your life sleeping with slutty girls instead of settling down. It's interesting that you picked a man though. I suppose that won't go over very well, but in my mind, those things don't matter much. And whether or not you think it's about trust and friendship, I think a night in the hotel next door would both do you some good."

"Ah, thanks for the advice but that's not why I brought Goten out here. He just got accepted in to graduate school so we're out celebrating."

With that, he stands and hands her the money, also leaving a generous tip. I follow his lead and we exit the building, once again heading towards his car.

"So, what do you want to do now?"

I'm still smarting over the whole dinner fiasco and truthfully, I'm tired. The thought of going out and 'doing something stupid' just doesn't seem appealing at the moment.

"Can we just go home? I just want to turn in for the night."

He stops next to his car and gives me look that shows his disappointment.

"Seriously Chibi? I really pissed you off, didn't I?"

I want to deny that I'm not angry, but instead, I nod my head slightly and then yawn.

"I…if you want to go home, I'll take you home."

He seems suddenly deflated and depressed, and once again I catch myself wondering about the point of all of his questions and statements and why he suddenly showed up at my house today of all days. That maybe, those statements really weren't jokes.

"It isn't entirely the dinner. I mean, the food was good and everything, but…I've got a lot of work to do tomorrow and I have to head to the office. I really am tired."

"Why do you have to go to the office on a Saturday? It's the weekend, for fuck's sake! I thought you quite working for Nezumi so you wouldn't have to put in another Saturday."

I squirm under the intensity of his look. He seems angrier over the idea of me working a Saturday then at me, but it makes me uncomfortable. Caving in, I let out a sigh and spill the truth over my Saturday plight.

"I need to work on scheduling. I could do it from home, but I don't have a computer so ergo, I have to go to the office on a Saturday."

He blinks at me and then he unlocks his car.

"Get in Goten. We'll go and fix your problem. Besides, if you're going to be starting grad school when the first fall module ends and the second one starts, you're going to need a computer anyway."

Opening up my side, I sit down and buckle up, thinking up some excuse as to why it isn't a good idea for me to get a computer. I just don't have the money for that kind of expense. I tell Trunks as much.

"Goten, I know I'm probably going to piss you off even more since you hate it when I try to help you out for whatever reason, but forget about not having money. I've got loads of it…my own, not my mother's or father's. Just think of it as present for being brave enough to follow your dreams instead of getting trapped in a life that sucks."

He says the last words bitterly and I think back to some of his comments about working at Capsule Corporation or even the fact that he's never been allowed to figure out what it is that he would like to spend the rest of his life doing. Sighing, I don't know what to say, so I just sit until we pull up to a technology store.

Before I even realize it, we are in and out of the store and I suddenly have a top of the line laptop computer to replace the shitty desktop I should have thrown out years ago. I don't know what to think. Part of me is elated at the prospect of finally being able to do things from my home. The other part of me resents the fact that Trunks could easily pay for it without so much as blinking his eyes at the cost. It's just one more reminder at the differences between the two of us that a lifetime of growing up together has never been able to erase.

We don't say anything to each other, our minds both preoccupied with thoughts neither one of us want to divulge at the moment. Trunks absently throws in a CD which ends up being trance music we used to dance to when we where in high school and college. Relaxing against the seat, my mind wanders off and suddenly I find myself being shaken awake.

"Hey Goten, we're here."

Blinking my eyes open, I watch as he pulls away and then gets out of the car, grabbing my new laptop from the backseat.

I wasn't really expecting him to come back inside with me, but our conversation at the Chinese restaurant brings up the fact that he apparently wants to talk to me about…things. I let him carry the laptop while I dig out my keys from my wallet and unlock the front door. Flipping on the lights, we both step inside and I close the door behind Trunks.

"So Chibi, where do you want me to set it up?"

Shrugging, I tell him that I'm more then capable of hooking it up to an outlet, which only seems to irritate him.

"Stop being so fucking stubborn. Just let me do this. You can go and get ready for bed."

His tone of voice doesn't brook any argument, so I put my hands up and back away. Turning around I step inside the bathroom and close the door. Glancing at my reflection, I run my hand along my jaw, feeling the roughness of my stubble growing back in. Deciding there isn't any point in shaving, I quickly brush my teeth and then head out of it and step in to my bedroom. Pulling off my clothes, I rummage around the floor for a pair of sweat pants and a wrinkled up T-shirt before putting the on. Letting out a deep breath, I stretch my arms out above my head, listening to my bones creak and some of my joints pop. Letting go of some of my nervousness, I grab hold of the door handle before making up my mind to join Trunks in my living room.

He's over at my dusty computer desk, and the computer's up and running. My old one is stacked against the wall, clearly ready to be put out on the curb. Stepping up behind him, I peer down at it, noticing how small it is compared to my old one. The second he senses me, he turns around and peers up at my face.

"Hey. It's really nice. I won't tell you about it, since I know you can figure out how to work it. Do you want to try it out?"

I just shake my head no and yawn, giving him the signal to shut it down. As soon as the laptop is off, I watch as he carefully folds the screen down before he gets up and stands.

"Do you want me to leave?"

Swallowing, I come to a junction of sorts. In truth, I am tired and the idea of going to bed and sleeping a good twelve hours seems really appealing. However, Trunks made an effort to come and visit me, and even though our night out together ended up pissing me off, I don't want him to leave and think that I'm some kind of ass. So instead of giving in and telling him to go so I can sleep, I shake my head no and then flop myself down on top of my futon.

"If you want something to drink, I have some cola and grape soda in the fridge."

He grins slightly and then heads towards the kitchen.

"What, no beer or vodka? God Chibi, when did your idea of having a drink with a friend turn in to pop? Do you want one too?"

I tell him no and after a few seconds, I hear the tab on his pop can hiss as he opens the drink. He brings it with him and sits down next to me on my futon.

Both of us sit there in silence, lost in our own thoughts. I'm still ruminating over the incident at the Chinese restaurant and I wonder if he's going bring up whatever it was that he wanted to talk to me about. Whatever the case, I have no idea how I'm going to respond. It just brings me back to an uncomfortable realization that he knows I'm gay, and I'm not ready for that. Stealing a glance at him out of the corner of my eyes, I notice that he isn't drinking his pop. Instead, he's just sitting there, staring at my television.

At least ten minutes pass with both of us saying nothing. I almost jump when Trunks taps my arms and says my name.

"Chibi, you really wouldn't be grossed out if I told you I might like other guys? You know, the way I like girls?"

I turn around and look him in the eyes, the only way I can ever tell if he's telling the truth. For once, he isn't trying to hide his true feelings from me and I can see how important my answer is. Besides, I would be lying to him if I told him I was grossed out since I apparently have the same problem. Still, it doesn't make sense why he would suddenly decide to tell me he's interested in men too, since a month ago, he was having orgies with girls.

"Trunks, if you want to start…um, dating guys, I don't care. You're still Trunks."

It is the truth. He would still be my friend regardless of if he liked guys or girls. I watch as his mind processes my statement. He lets out a sigh and takes a sip of his soda. Then, he sets it down on the coffee table before turning towards me.

"I…it's just, you always seem so against it."

I blink at him, not entirely sure where he's going with this.

"What do you mean, I seem against it? Trunks, for one thing, I had no idea you were even thinking about liking guys. You've never, ever come across as being interested in the same sex. And since we've never talked about it, how could you think I would be against whoever you decide to be romantically involved with?"

What next comes out of his mouth shocks me because I never, in a million years, could see it coming.

"You always scorn my advances. You never take me seriously. And since I've been aware that you like guys, I just figured you'd get it. But you never do Chibi. It's like hitting a brick wall, and every time I think I've gotten somewhere with you, you make it fucking impossible. I've really been thinking a lot about this for the last month. Maybe it's because I'm just not…good enough for you. I've got problems. I know that I do, but I can change."

"Wha…wait." I hold up my hand, my brain trying to process what he's just said.

"What advances? What are you talking about? It feels like all we ever do is fight and whenever we don't, you're out with girls. And you figured that …I _like_ other men? How?"

He stares at me before letting out a snort of incredulity.

"Fuck Goten, it's just like you to be in denial. How could I not know? No matter that we haven't been getting along the best for a while now, you never want to have anything to do with women. When was the last time you actually went on a date? When was the last time you had sex with a girl? It's been years Goten. You just aren't interested, so what do you think that means? Yeah, I have sex with girls. All the time. It's the only thing that keeps me from thinking about you like that. And I drink because it's the only _other_ thing that keeps me from thinking about you…like that. Do you realize how much this last year has hurt me, truly and honestly? Sure, I know your life isn't a bed of roses, but I don't want to lose what we've had for so long. Yet, it isn't the same anymore and I'm sick of lying to myself. I can't fucking stand it."

Standing up, he pulls me off the sofa so that we are almost touching one another. I try to back away, but he anchors his arm behind me.

"As for advances, how about that kiss by the lake? I know you wanted it but you just turned me down. Or how about the day after, when you came by to watch a movie? I was so pissed off at you for denying me what I've wanted for so long…I wanted to make you pay, to make you uncomfortable. Yet I thought that maybe, I was the only one with this sick little obsession. That was until you came and told me about quitting Nezumi's. You…touched my face before you left. It wasn't the kind of touch somebody gives a friend. I thought you were going to kiss me and I wanted you to, yet all you did was leave me again. You're so good at leaving…a perfect artist at it. You don't want anyone to know what it is that you're thinking. You tell me how to act, you criticize me for my behavior, yet you do the same thing as me: you deny yourself what you really want because you're…you're afraid."

I try to deny it even though I know it's pointless to do so. Still, he's right. I am afraid, and we've already screwed up enough things between the two of us. I don't want this to end up as the ultimate mistake, one where there is no fixing it after it's all said and done.

"Are you afraid? Just be honest with me. Please."

_Yes._

"Yes."

I say that one little word, and everything suddenly shifts. At that exact moment, there is no stopping the two of us from making a huge misstep. The Saiyan half of me can sense what Trunks wants, what Trunks needs. It isn't about two friends trying to figure out how their relationship has ended up falling apart no matter how they try to keep it together. Instead, it's about a force older then time incarnate deciding the fate of two people who have been twined together since birth.

He leans forward and I swallow. He grabs my chin and I let him. He pulls his arm tighter around my back, and I step towards him. He jerks my head down so that I'm peering inside the depths of his blue eyes. I shiver unconsciously and then close my eyes. He has me under his influence completely, just as he always has. And if for some reason, I've completely misinterpreted his intent, it will be the most humiliating moment in my life. Yet…yet I know that this is really going to happen, and I can't stop it this time.

The moment I feel the dryness of his lips against mine, I instinctively jerk backwards, but his grip is tight and his will to dominate is just as strong. There is no avoiding this. So I give in. It's just a kiss, I tell myself. What harm is there in that? _Plenty_.

I can't help myself, however. The moment he moves closer and deepens the kiss expertly, I cave in to the desire that's been building within me for months. I let out a sigh of surrender and before I know it, he's moved in for the kill. For the first time in my life, I understand the true meaning behind a plundered kiss. My body is suddenly on fire and Trunks takes advantage of that small moment of weakness. Sliding his tongue inside of my mouth, he rasps it across my teeth and I moan, opening up even further to him. He takes hold of my own tongue and sucks on it in a practiced motion while his hand slowly slides down my back and grabs my ass. I'm shocked. Not so much by my own wantonness, but by how forward he's being and suddenly, that fear of making a terrible mistake comes roaring back to life, overpowering my desire for him and the enjoyment of suddenly giving in to a forbidden kiss with the one person who knows me best.

Jerking away from him, I break away and take in a shuddering breath. Trying to center myself and ignoring the throbbing in my groin that I failed to notice while I was making out with my friend, I put my hand up and then peer over towards where he's standing, obviously in the same state of…arousal as myself. I think it over in my head. This…can't be happening.

"But it has Chibi," he says quietly. "So what are you going to do about it? Are you going to keep on pretending that you don't feel things for me, that you don't want to have sex with me? Or are you going to finally put aside your fear and plunge in with both feet?"

I don't know what I'm going to do. I can't pretend that I don't like him in that way any longer because he knows. However, I'm not ready to just jump in bed with him. I'm not going to end up being just the name of another person he's fucked for the hell of it.

I know he can sense my indecision and I can see he's disappointed, but he hides it behind a mask of aloofness, while I feel as though I'm floundering around for him to see clearly.

"Go to bed Chibi. You're tired."

I blink over the change of subject and then nod my head dumbly.

"Are you going home?"

"That's the idea. Unless you want to carry on where we left off. I'm not averse to that."

All right, so maybe he hasn't changed the subject. I'm still trying to get over how he can be so nonchalant about something that's been burning a hole in my brain for months, especially since I just found out exactly what it is like to be kissed by him. Shaking my head no, I unsteadily walk towards my bedroom, trying to ignore the burning ache below my belt, a stark reminder of giving in to a temptation that should have been ignored.

Crawling on top of the bed, I pull my covers up over my body and just lay there, looking at the ceiling. I'm not even aware that Trunks hasn't left until I sense his presence in the doorway.

"Goten…I'll wait. But don't expect me to be patient. Have a good sleep. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

With that, he leaves, closing my bedroom door. A few seconds later, I hear the front door shut and then the sound of his car as he revs the engine and disappears down the road.

Sinking deeper inside my covers, I close my eyes and try to make sense of everything that just happened tonight between Trunks and myself. Instead of feeling relief however, I can't help but think we've just opened up a new wound between the two of us. I'm not ready…not for what he wants, at any rate. Besides, what does it even mean? Has he only been obsessing over having sex with me or is his fascination with me like what I feel for him…a natural progression between two friends? Struggling to come to grips with this new development, I lay on my bed without falling asleep for hours before my exhaustion takes hold. Before I drift of to an uneasy sleep, I wonder how will things ever be the same again. And then I make a conjecture as to whether or not Trunks is feeling the same agony. It just seems…impossible.

_Trunks has come out of the closet, taking Goten by surprise. How will this development change things between the two? Will Goten be able to keep Trunks at bay, or is it just another lost battle? I'll try to update soon. The next chapter will begin with Goten's adjustment to his job, starting school and…Trunks! Please review if you would like._


	8. Chapter 8

_Disclaimer: Dragon Ball Z and all characters are the property of Toriyama Akira._

_Chapter 8_

If I thought finding out Trunks wouldn't be put off by my apparent homosexuality would make things clearer, I was wrong. Instead of feeling confident about how to proceed between us, I only feel more concerned about the unhealthiness of how we have been acting towards each other and how a sexual relationship would only complicate the brittle connection that still exists from that sense of obligation we've held towards each other since childhood. There is this sensation in my gut that keeps telling me no matter how much _I_ might want to experiment with a sexual liaison involving my friend, the only thing that will happen is disappointment, anger, and an eventual breaking apart of the remnants left from our once inseparable friendship.

Realizing that the sun is well over the horizon, I sit up in my bed and scrub my hand across my eyes, trying to will away my tiredness from a sleepless night spent worrying about something I have lost control over. Letting out a deep yawn, I untangle my legs from the sheets that have managed to wrap themselves firmly around me, no doubt from my restless movements during the night. Standing up from the bed unsteadily, I stumble across the floor to the bedroom window and open the shades, blinking against the brightness of the morning sunlight spilling across my body and illuminating the mess around me.

I can tell just by looking outside that the day is going to be a beautiful one. Letting out a depressed sigh, I wish I felt like I could enjoy it. Instead, I have this twisted feeling of despair sinking more deeply into my bones. It seems like no matter what I do or how I say things, I can't seem to fix or repair the problems between Trunks and myself and now things have become infinitely more complicated then they were before. I want to ask somebody, _anybody_, why can't life be simple? Why does God set events in motion that cause the suffering and anguish so many people go through? It's an oxymoron of sorts: that a benevolent god would make living day to day so difficult for people on a periodic basis. In truth, I'm not much of a believer in fate _or_ god, but I can't get this idea out of my head that somehow, the good fortune my father and my brother have always known has been taken away from me as a way to balance out what some would consider unfair circumstances. Fuck that.

Slowly, I stretch and then head towards my bathroom to take a quick shower, shave, and use the toilet. Once I finish, I grab clean underwear, a T-shirt, and a pair of pants off one of the many piles of clean clothes scattered around my room among the dirty, put them on, and then make my way towards my kitchen.

I can already feel my stomach rumbling and I know I'm starving. Opening up the refrigerator, I'm greeted with the sight of a chunk of moldy cheese, half a carton of eggs and milk that expired a week ago. Crossing my arms, I slam the door shut, suddenly enveloped in an uncharacteristic rage. Fuck, fuck, _FUCK!_ Glaring at the offending appliance, I stalk around to the other side of the small counter and seat myself on my futon. Grinding my teeth, I try to concentrate on why the fact that I forgot to buy groceries this week has put me into such a poor mood.

In truth, my anger has nothing to do with my lack of food. Instead, it has more to do with the fact that I have no idea how I'm going to face Trunks when he calls me today, if he even remembers to do that. I am frustrated with the situation and have been for months. All I kept thinking about last night is the fact that while I can be sure of my intentions in such a relationship, I have no idea if Trunks is indulging in a whim, one that somehow managed to take hold of in his brain and one that he can't let go of.

Perhaps I am being overly negative and maybe that stems from a lack of confidence that I have always had. It's difficult to believe in one's self-worth when growing up among paragons, something I have always known. Truthfully, the stark reality of this situation is that no matter how much I might want to give Trunks the benefit of the doubt, something I have always done with him, I can't help thinking that he's only out for a conquest, a way to put aside his realization that our relationship has shifted and if he wants to bring it back to the way it was, he has to do something about it. Perhaps, in his mind, he believes that having sex would be a way to show me how much he cares. However, all I can see is that he could have anyone he wants and I'm…different. I'm half-Saiyan, just like him. I've had an intimate connection with him since childhood, especially after we learned the Fusion technique. I know him more deeply then anyone else who claims to have an acquaintanceship with him. Perhaps that is what is driving his desire for me. The people he normally sleeps with mean nothing to him. I am someone different. And once he's had a taste of what it would be like to be sexually intimate with me, he'll throw me to the side and destroy everything we once shared. I would rather live a lifetime of agony, denying my own feelings and thoughts in regards to him yet keeping the friendship we've had since childhood instead of throwing it out the second I cross the line between friend and lover.

I sit on the couch thinking about these…philosophical dilemmas for a few more minutes, letting my sudden anger and frustration dissipate before standing up and stretching. Deciding that I can't dwell on last night, nor can I worry about what Trunks might say to me over the phone should he decide to call, I come to the conclusion that the only way to alleviate some of my stress is to act like everything is normal and go about my day to day routine.

Spotting a pair of battered up sandals, I slide my feet inside them and wriggle around my toes before absently nodding my head, grabbing my keys and wallet from the kitchen counter, and making my way out the door and down the street to the local super market.

Thankfully, because of this change of attitude compared to what I woke up with, my grocery shopping ends up being enjoyable and a welcome relief to the stifling confinement of my small and messy apartment. I don't know why I actually like buying food. I think it probably has to do with the fact that I enjoy eating, just as every Saiyan does. Slowly, my cart starts to fill to the brim with food that will only last me a couple of days. Eventually, I wind my way to the checkout counter, only to find a long line typical of a Saturday morning. Standing idly, I grab a magazine off one of the racks and flip through it, only to find an article written about Trunks in one of the gossip columns. Feeling disgusted with people in general for reading such filth and not wanting to find out any more of Trunks's dirty secrets then I already know, I throw the magazine back on the rack in irritation, only to almost hit the hand of the person standing behind me in line.

"Sorry," I mumble out in embarrassment, turning to the person in question, only to be caught off guard by a pair of stunning violet eyes blinking at me in confusion. Swallowing away a sudden dryness that seems to take hold of my throat, I back up as far as my cart will allow me to move, banging my hip clumsily against the cool metal surface of the handle. I don't understand it….this irrational nervousness on my part over a complete stranger that I've never seen before in my life. I have this overwhelming sensation that reminds me of a premonition of sorts. Never having been one who believed in superstition or omens, I force my unaccounted nervousness away and smile slightly before turning back to my groceries.

Of course…things don't end up being that simple.

The line is unbelievably slow and I have this crawling awareness that someone is staring at me and that it happens to be the person standing behind me. Stiffening my shoulders, I turn around only to find myself peering into that strange pair of oddly luminous, violet eyes.

"I think I've seen you around."

"Excuse me?" I ask in slight surprise, not understanding if this person is speaking to me or to themselves.

"Yeah, I'm sure I've seen you around. You run through the park almost every day, in the evening? You've got great stamina."

The last statement is said in such a way that makes me blush, wondering if they're talking about athletic stamina or something else all together. It also creeps me out that this person has been watching me for the last month without me being aware of it. To top it off, it occurs to me that while this person first had an oddly sexless look about them, with highly gelled and highlighted light brown hair, two large diamond studs in their ears, and something that looks suspiciously like eyeliner accenting the abnormal largeness of their eyes, they are definitely male. And the look in his eyes suddenly comes across as being very predatory and I happen to be the hapless prey.

Not knowing what to say and wishing the line would speed up to get me away from the obviously frank assessment of the man standing behind me, I nod my head slightly and once again try to turn around, only to have my arm snagged by one of his long, slim, and tapered hands. Growling out against his intentional invasion of my personal space, I spin on my heel and push his hand off my body, snapping out a verbal command.

"What?"

Immediately, I feel foolish for lashing out when he backs up nervously and rubs his hands back and forth, his basket of groceries forgotten by his feet. For all I know, it could be my over active mind taking his behavior to a completely different level then what was intended. Perhaps it's due to the nervousness of finally admitting to myself that I'm homosexual and that I'm not ready to acknowledge that I might find more then just Trunks attractive. Or perhaps…the thought of another man besides Trunks finding myself sexually interesting is something new and unexpected. Hell, I don't even know if the man standing behind me is…gay, although for all intents and purposes, he does come across immediately as such.

Exhaling a breath through my mouth, I rub my hand nervously through my hair before once again apologizing. He at least has the decency to look uncomfortable; obviously aware that his touching a complete stranger in such a familiar manner isn't something a person would normally do in a crowded check out line at the grocery store.

"Look, you shouldn't be the one apologizing. I guess I got a bit carried away…"

I listen as his voice trails off and his eyes look away slightly to the right, as though he's thinking about something before shaking it off and setting his unsettling eyes on my face.

"You seem tense, uncomfortable and I was just trying to…trying to help? Well, I went about it the wrong way. I guess it's just because I see you run through the park so much I had it in my head that we were much better acquainted then we actually are. Um, I know that sounds really stupid and lame, but…forget it."

His dialog unnerves me a bit and I wonder for the first time if he's not quite right in the head. I mean, how could he have ever figured we were acquaintances, especially since up until this point, I had never laid eyes on him before? Moving my cart forward and seeing with relief that I'll be up next to check out, I glance at him and watch as he looks at me with a sudden expectancy in his eyes. For what, I have no idea. Ignoring him, or at least trying to, I turn back fully around and start picking at my nails. Thankfully, he decides not to try and talk to me, and before I know it, it's my turn. Putting my large amount of groceries on the belt, I listen to the dull beeps as the cashier pushes them across the scanner. Eventually, my cart is empty and so is my wallet, the last of my pay going towards feeding the endless pit that happens to be my Saiyan stomach. Leaning over the end of the belt, I put the freshly bagged groceries into my cart and start to head towards the exit, pointedly ignoring the stranger behind me.

Once I leave the store, I let out a breath of barely concealed relief: relief that I'm away from him, his strange comments, his strange looks, and my own strange …reaction, for lack of a better word. Shaking my head, I start unloading my groceries, cursing slightly in my head for forgetting to bring a storage capsule with me to put them in and realizing that somehow, I'm going to have to carry them down two blocks and bear with the inevitable strange looks of people wondering how one person can carry so many bags of groceries alone. Shrugging my shoulders, I organize in my head how best to go about it when I hear a shout and turn around, only to see the unnerving stranger crossing quickly towards me, his earrings glinting brightly in the sunlight as he makes his way over. Feeling an irrational frustration growing deep inside the pit of my stomach, I turn away, but it's too late because he sees me look at him and there is no way I can get away without leaving my groceries behind.

"Hey!" he mumbles out breathlessly as he catches up to me, obviously having hastily exited to track me down before I left the property.

Crossing my arms, I try to imitate Vegeta's well-known death glare to get him to leave me alone, but I've never been good at intimidating people. Trunks always used to say that it was because I'm too good-natured of a person and too naïve, enough so that people can always sense my looks are much worse then my bite. Apparently, that still holds true as the stranger just peeks at me expectantly, obviously waiting for me to reply to his greeting.

"What do you want?" I finally grind out, my tone of voice obviously disconcerting him as his pale cheeks color slightly while he looks down at his feet briefly.

"Um, I think we got off to a rough start…do you need help taking your groceries home?"

I don't understand him. He doesn't even know me, except for seeing me run in the park whenever he's doing god knows what. I run my hands through my hair, trying to figure why he's so adamant in trying to get to know me through our brief encounter at the grocery store and why he would want to help me carry something I have no problem dealing with. I ask him as much.

"Why do you want to help? You have your own groceries to take home and besides, I might not even live anywhere near here."

I think my argument makes sense and I commend myself for not giving into my irrational discomfort enough to snap out a crass reply. Apparently, my argument is for not as he suddenly straightens and smiles at me, his violet eyes locking onto my equally dark ones, leaving me with a feeling that I'm not the master of what is going on in this situation and that I have somehow fallen into his web and am at the mercy of whatever his designs happen to be.

"I want to help because it would be the right thing to do. Besides, how else do strangers become friends if not through helping each other out? And on top of that, I've seen you come here enough times to know that you don't drive a car and that you walk, so it only makes sense that you live somewhere within the vicinity."

I openly gape at him, unnerved that not only has he been watching me at the park but that he has made it a point to figure out my grocery shopping routine or something very like it. Taking a step back, I ask him if he's been stalking me, which only earns a confused look and a nervous laugh in return.

"Ah, no, although I suppose it would seem like it. I live across the way, over in the Olympic Apartments and you…you're interesting and I just happened to notice we cross paths many times both in the park and here at the store. I have never gathered enough of my nerve up to talk to you until today, though I'm muddling it up pretty badly, I'm afraid."

No kidding, I think to myself.

"You don't have to worry about me. I just want to help, that's it. My name's Shinji, by the way. Murasaki Shinji."

With that, he bows slightly to me and then extends his shapely, almost feminine hand out. Not knowing what else to do, I gradually put my own out and we shake awkwardly, his skin against mine sending out an almost instantaneous tingle that puts me on edge. Letting go quickly, I mumble my own name out in reply.

"Son Goten."

"Well Son Goten, do you need help?"

I can tell he's already decided what my answer must be. In truth, I don't need help at all and his pushing himself into my acquaintance irritates me as much as it alarms me. Yet, I know that he most likely means no harm whatsoever and should he try anything funny, I'm more then capable of dealing with his weak, human body. Coming to my decision, I nod my head in the affirmative, at which he begins to pick up half of my bags. I can tell immediately that he seems somewhat frail, at least by my standards, so I grab three of his bags, leaving him with three and myself with nine.

"Uhh, I could have…"

I cut him off with a sharp nod.

"Yeah, and then I would have had to call the ambulance to revive you from heat exhaustion and pulled muscles."

This shuts him up immediately and with that, I begin walking towards my apartment building. After about ten minutes of silence, we arrive, at which point I climb the stairs, drop by bags unceremoniously and unlock and open my door. Grabbing five bags, I bring them inside and put them on the counter and go to get the rest while Shinji brings his own load in.

"So this is where you live…It seems like a nice enough place."

I grunt out a noncommittal reply, hoping that he gets the hint that it interests me little if he likes where I live or not. Taking the grocery bags from him, I ignore our minimal skin contact and put them on the counter with the rest before turning around towards him.

"You really didn't have to help. I could have handled it by myself…but I guess, thanks."

He smiles cryptically at me before accepting my gratitude.

"It was no problem. I wanted to…"

His voice trails off as he slowly takes a step backwards, his eyes once again glancing around and pausing on the few pictures I have displayed along with the recognition that my apartment hasn't been thoroughly cleaned in over a month. I have a feeling that he's going to offer to stay and clean, but he doesn't say anything about that and instead offers something else that makes me swallow uncomfortably.

"Like I said, I live in Olympic Apartments. You know where they are?"

I nod my head briskly.

"I live in 1708 B. If you ever need to talk or you just feel lonely, you can give me a call. I'm usually around after 5:00 pm. I get this feeling that you need a…friend. Here."

I narrow my eyes and watch as he pulls out his wallet from his back pocket and flips it open, extracting a business card. Extending his arm towards me, he offers the card, which I hastily grab, before realizing how stupid it is for me to take it; especially since this whole incident screams to me that the man is either hitting on me or is mentally ill. Flicking the card on top of the counter next to where I am standing, I peek at him by tilting my head to the side, trying to figure out what his underlying plan really is. He says I'm interesting and that he thinks I'm lonely, and I don't even want to think about how long he's been watching me from the shadows, waiting to pounce at the right opportunity. I already know that I have no intention of calling him or ever seeing him again. However, why he finds me interesting does pique my curiosity. I've always considered myself too plain and insignificant, especially in comparison to any number of my acquaintances. So I ask him.

He shrugs his shoulders slightly before answering.

"I don't really know. When I first saw you run through the park, I thought you looked so free, but it's been a while since I noticed that you really aren't and that you try to hide how you feel, even to yourself. Look, I know you probably think I'm crazy. It's not the first time that it has happened, you know. But…I have this gift to be able to look at a person and realize if their…um, inner soul is whole and happy. You always seem sad and I want to help. It doesn't hurt to have friends to rely on once in a while, you know?"

I can tell my look of disbelief is pretty much clear for him to see when he bites his bottom lip and wrings his hands slightly.

"I'm really not crazy. You don't have to believe me, but I'm just clarifying that fact for you. I'm there whenever you just need to talk about things Goten. You can call my cell whenever you want. No matter what you think, I know that I'll be hearing from you."

I want to tell him he's a nut job and there is no way, no way in _hell_, that I would ever call him. It doesn't even matter to me that, for all intents and purposes, I _do_ owe him something for helping me take my groceries home. It does matter, however, that his statements, no matter how insane they sound, ring deep down inside my heart. I don't have many friends because I've never needed them, content to have Trunks and Trunks alone. Yet, where has that gotten me? I am lonely and I can't rely on just Trunks to relieve my discomfort, especially now with…with all the issues that have cropped up, last night only adding to them. But, I don't intend on cluing Murasaki Shinji in on that facet. I don't need his type of friendship, whatever that might be. Pushing away from the counter, I move towards the fridge and open it up, realizing that I have one cola left, my grape soda having been drunk by Trunks and myself the day before. Pulling it out, I turn around and walk towards him, trying not to display the warring feelings about this person that are going through my brain a million miles per hour.

"Here. It's not much, but you can have it in my appreciation for helping."

His lips quirk slightly at the corners of his mouth, his eyes gleam slightly, and he carefully takes the drink from me before bending over to pick up his single bag of groceries.

"You really don't have too, but I never say no to any sort of offer of refreshment. My thanks Son Goten."

With that said, I watch as he salutes me with the can of soda before he leaves through the open door and walks down the street.

Shaking my head, I close the door and blink, trying to figure out exactly what transpired between the two of us and if it really does mean something. Sighing, I put it to the back of my mind and then walk over to the kitchen counter and snatch his card up, staring at it before taking it and pushing it inside my silverware drawer, intent on forgetting about it.

With that done, I focus all of my energy into putting away my groceries and making a few sandwiches to occupy me while I work on scheduling, Trunks and Shinji relegated to a spot in my mind closed off to everything except for my work. It doesn't take long before I'm completely absorbed in my task of assembling next month's schedule on my new computer, which works like a dream. I lose track of time as I plan and designate tasks, Trunks and Shinji temporarily forgotten, at least until the phone rings.

Standing up slowly, I shake away the sluggishness that seems to have taken over my body from sitting in the same spot and staring at a computer for hours. Stepping over to the phone, I answer it.

"Hello?"

I scrunch my eyes together in irritation when I hear what sounds like a cross between a sigh and a deep breath.

"Hey Chibi…it's me."

Trunks.

"Yeah, what's up?"

"Nothing…how about you? How are you?"

I think about if for a second. I'm confused. I'm afraid. And I don't know what to say to him. I'm unsettled about Shinji from the grocery store, yet I don't trust Trunks enough at this moment to spill my nervousness because I don't know how he would react. Instead of telling him all of these things, I opt with a generic answer.

"I'm good."

There's a long pause as he digests my rather blasé answer.

"Don't shit with me Goten. You aren't fine and neither am I. How can you be after last night, or have you just conveniently forgotten about it? Well, it isn't that simple. If it were, neither one of us would be in this mess."

"Fine. What do you want me to say? Just tell me Trunks, since you know me so well, and that will be my answer."

My retort is sarcastic and bitter, my own internal misery bubbling to the surface, no longer locked away in a safe place. His answer is equally such.

"Okay, if you're going to be that way. I want you to say that you love me and that you'll stop being such a fucking pussy bastard and act like the man you claim to be. Stop hiding behind your virtuous façade because I know you're just as perverted as the next guy."

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?" I shout into the phone, uncomfortable over his assertion of love and angry over his characterization of me. I know I'm not virtuous and I've never pretended to be so, but I haven't sunk to Trunks's own level of depravity, nor would I wish to.

"It means you're a sick homo and you want my cock up your ass. And I'm just as sick because I want to feel what it would be like to be inside you, fucking you over and over again until you scream. Do you dream about it Goten? Do you…have you ever wondered what it would be like to fuck me? Because I…I want it."

My mouth is dry and I have to shake my head because his own claim of sexuality rings like a gong between my ears and between my legs. Have I ever dreamed of having sex with him? Yes…on more then one occasion. Do I want to have sex? I wouldn't be male if I didn't want to. However, the dilemma of our longstanding friendship and our current relationship seems to stand in the way as an obstacle, one which apparently, he hasn't seemed to have considered.

"I know you do and I would be lying if I said that I also don't want the same exact thing."

There is a long pause and I can hear him fidget with his phone before he sucks in a breath and responds.

"So what's stopping you? Because if you say fear, I'm going to say that it isn't a good enough reason."

I think long and hard to give him a reason. At first, the thought that runs around in my head is to pin my own true feelings about the matter to something entirely different, but it doesn't take me long to realize how wrong it is to cower behind something that isn't true. That it isn't how a man would act, nor would it be how a true friend would behave either. It's just that when the uncomfortable truth sinks in about how I'm going to answer Trunks, I come to the conclusion that by me being honest and forthright and not hiding behind how I really feel, things will truly and inevitably be different between us forever. I know that I am a coward when it comes to what Trunks thinks and that is why I have kept this mask covering my true intentions for longer then I can remember. I don't want things to change, and if I could go back in time to fix the mistakes we've made, to make Trunks realize the harm he's doing to himself and the people he cares about, I would. To help him realize that he doesn't have to feel completely bound by what he is convinced of as his fate. However, that's just a dream on my part and will never be reality. So instead, I come to the decision that should have been made months ago and finally acknowledge what should be acknowledged about the state our relationship is in and what can…never be. I seal my own coffin shut with a finality that makes me feel sick.

"I can't because it's wrong, that's why! You're my best friend, but I don't feel like I'm…I feel as though your idea of having sex with me and my idea of what it means aren't the same. Trunks, you can't just fix problems by fucking around with a person you've cared about for as long as you can remember. It has to mean more then just feeling the pleasure of the moment. It has to be deeper then that. That's what I want Trunks."

"I don't want a one-night stand. I want to know that the moment you and I cross the line between friends and lovers that we can still have both together. But I know at this moment, if we did what our bodies are telling us to do, it would destroy us, or at least what we once had. Our relationship is already in enough trouble, so why complicate it even more? I'm not willing to cross the line if it means losing you forever. I…love you Trunks, but I don't want to be sacrificed because our current feelings are stronger than our relationship. And…I can't watch you continue to kill yourself slowly because you hate your life. If you want this Trunks, then you have to be willing to work on things about our relationship and about what you do in your personal life. You wouldn't be doing it alone because I'll be there with you.

I exhale a deep breath, feeling my anxiety rise slightly as I wait for his forthcoming answer. Thankfully, or unthankfully, I only have to wait about ten seconds before his quiet voice comes through the receiver.

"So, let me get this straight Chibi. You think our relationship is about as broken as it can get and that my desire for you stems from the fact that I don't know how to deal with problems and can only think of selfish desires? That I'd ditch you as soon as I had a taste of your tight virgin ass? Fuck you. Fuck you, fuck you, FUCK YOU! If that's the case, then…take your virtuous ideals about our relationship and throw them out the window for all I care. You don't understand me. You don't know what I'm dealing with. How the fuck could you? I mean, you're Son Goten, son of the great Son Goku, a blasted paragon. What do you know about hell, huh? What do you know about anything?"

I swallow, wondering how he could misconstrue things so badly, how he could think…And then my Saiyan side starts to bubble to the surface as my anger grows.

"I know a lot more about Hell then you give me credit for. I've been agony for months. Months because I've known what you don't want to think about and that's the fact that our friendship is broken just like you said. It's broken because you can't take the truth that things suck between us. You think your life is terrible? You've been handed things on a silver platter your entire life. You've never had to work at anything because your family's taken care of you since the first day you were born into this world until now, when you're a spoiled adult who doesn't know how to go about getting the things he wants and hides behind sex, alcohol, and god knows what else because it's easier then dealing with the shit life throws at you. Well, I'm telling you that things have to change. I'm willing to change them, but if you aren't, then we might as well doom what we've had up until this point as a failure. Having sex with each other won't change that fact, no matter how much you might wish it could."

"Fine Goten. If you say it's doomed, then so be it. I'm through with you. I don't need you. I don't want you. And I sure as hell can't imagine whatever possessed me to even consider…Good-bye."

Click.

I don't know how many minutes pass while I just sit there and stare at my computer screen blankly, too shocked to do anything else. Eventually, that sensation passes, and I slowly drop the handset to the floor, too numb to even consider the fact that our friendship of twenty plus years is gone. When that truth does rear its head, however, anger that was just under the surface explodes. He said he would wait…he said it but he's a fucking liar. He doesn't get his way from the beginning so he takes away what we at least had, no matter how shitty it was, like a spoiled child. The only thought at the moment is how much I hate Trunks Briefs and how much I would like to smash his smug face in and beat him until there isn't anything left. And then I feel sick. Disgusted for thinking such a thing and sick because I know he meant every word he said and I can't believe he would willing to throw it all away.

Slumping back in my chair, a sinking sensation of loneliness mixed with despair creeps into my heart. I feel like he just ripped half of my heart away. It's painful, like a knife stabbing me over and over again. Yet, I cling to the fact that whenever we've had a serious fight about something, he's always come back. However, it's always been because I apologized first, for the most part. I can't back down though. I'm not willing to sacrifice my ideals and my morals to satisfy what he considers to be the way to fix everything. I will never do that unless it means he shares the same kind of love that I have for him…easy affection and deep understanding that no matter how many faults the other person has, no matter how many fights or arguments we might share, that they are worth coming back to again and again.

I think about this for a while before getting up to change and go for a run. I would do anything in my power for Trunks because I do love him. I love him enough to resist what would have been a mistake and find comfort in the fact that deep down inside, he must realize that truth or he wouldn't have gotten so angry. Yet, Trunks is a lot like his father, more so then most people have ever realized except for myself and maybe Bulma. On the surface, he's friendly towards most people and a highly social creature, but underneath, he's extremely proud and resentful, and a blow to his pride is a serious wound. I know I damaged his pride and hurt his feelings, but I won't accept the fact that he decided to end it. I let myself think that he'll come around, that he'll call me up and will talk things over and decide how best to go about fixing the things that need to be fixed.

Yet…there's the other side to all of this; the doubtful, devilish part of my conscious that says the opposite. He won't forgive me and he won't change or fix what needs repair because he either won't accept the way things are or he won't admit that his own behavior is part of the issue. I've told him the truth, and in doing so, I laid out what I perceived to be his faults, just as he laid out mine. Yet, I've always been able to take that sort of criticism and acknowledge that it might be true, whereas he has never been able to do the same. To me, that spells out the real truth clearly, yet I won't admit to that because to do so would mean I've acknowledged I have lost my other half.

Changing into my running clothes, I focus on my intended route and leave my apartment as soon as my shoes are on my feet. Running down the street and across the bridge, I push myself into the park and run past the trees, the children playing, and the couples strolling without seeing anything.

I cannot have lost my best friend.

_Well, this update is long overdue. I apologize for the length between chapters. I've had some issues with writer's block and this chapter has been in the works for the last month. Also, as you can see, there will be an original character who will have a somewhat important role. I've planned this from the beginning, but he has been introduced earlier then I was intending because it fit in with what I was writing. Let me know what you think. Thanks to all of you who have reviewed. I truly appreciate them and I hope this chapter isn't disappointing. I know many of you were hoping that Goten would get the picture with Trunks, but I'm trying to show that there is more to getting involved with a relationship involving intimacy then letting passions take hold of reason, something which Goten understands even though it might mean losing the friend he loves. Well, enough rambling. If you like this, let me know and if you don't, also let me know (but be kind about it!). Thanks-Saiyajinxyz_


	9. Chapter 9

_Disclaimer: Dragon Ball Z is the property of Toryiama Akira _

_Chapter Nine_

_December…_

It's snowing. Again.

Pushing my chair over towards the window, I press my forehead to the cool pane of glass and watch as the flakes swirl down, settling on the ground and covering my stoop, the street, and the few cars sitting along the roadside in a blanket of white. Sighing, I watch as my breath condenses, leaving a cloud of fog on the glass, before pulling back to stare at my computer.

I'm depressed, enough so that I really notice it. Certainly, during the summer there was that period when I was avoiding everybody because I was sick of my job, sick of my life, and sick of the state of things between Trunks and myself. However, I got out of that slump to only end up in it once again, and this time there is so much pressure on me to…succeed that I feel compelled to put up my usual front that everything is A-okay. But it's not and it hurts.

I can't say that everything is bad in my life. My job is going well, and I finally started school the middle of October. Our first module is almost over with, and although I've had to have Gohan edit a number of my papers since writing has never been something I'm good at, I'm managing to pull a B. Yet, on a personal front, I might as well have committed suicide that Saturday in September when Trunks called me. I was lonely before, but now…now I feel like there's this giant black hole beneath my feet intent on swallowing me whole. I have never felt so isolated in my entire life, and the feeling isn't lost on me. To put it simply, I've entered a new state of misery tied to my own stubbornness and that of a certain Saiyan prince.

"Fuck that! I'm not going to think about him anymore."

I tell this to myself at least ten times a day, yet it hasn't really helped. All it does is feed back to my circular thinking about what I could have done differently, how I could have said things differently to him, and how he's become an absolute ass. And the more I think of _that_ the more I become angry to the point of wanting to go to his apartment and beat him until there isn't anything left.

In truth, neither one of those techniques would do any good because they don't deal with the root of the problem which happens to be two adults who have serious problems which interferes with having a normal and healthy relationship. One hides their insecurities and depression behind alcohol, sex, and an abusive tongue while the other allows himself to be pushed around and then puts all the blame squarely on their own shoulders when it isn't completely their fault for the bad things that happen. Neither psychosis can lead to a healthy bond. Not unless both persons involved want to change. One alone won't do the trick. And being the only one who sees this as a problem, I sealed myself to losing him because I finally found the guts to tell Trunks what would be wrong with his idea of fixing a rotting relationship. Telling Trunks anything he doesn't want to hear never leads to positive results.

That much has been made infinitely clear since our argument months ago. I had thought, or more like _hoped_, he would come around and that he didn't really mean what he said when he cut me out of his life. Yet…a man once scorned is a force to be reckoned with, especially one with as much clout, power, and pride as Trunks Vegeta Briefs. It didn't matter that I called him up to apologize for something that needed no apology. He wouldn't pick up the phone and he hasn't since. In fact, within the last month, he has disconnected his landline phone so it's impossible to even bother trying to get a hold of him, short of going to his apartment. Well, I may be a weakling in regards to always wanting to stay on a person's good side, no matter how much they hurt or embarrass me, but I'm not idiotic enough to beg for him to come back into my life. It's over with. He threw out a lifetime connection because he couldn't get what he wanted and in the back of my head, I tell myself that it's better this way. I didn't and do not currently need such complications in my already stressful life. I just wish I could convince my heart of that.

As it stands, I feel as though I've…lost part of myself. Even with how difficult things had been prior to this current separation, I always knew I could call on Trunks to talk about things or to just hang out and be with him. I don't have that connection any longer. He wants nothing to do with me. I have only myself to look towards and that idea leaves a sour feeling in my gut. There is nothing worse then realizing you are completely without a true friend, a friend of the soul.

Slumping in my chair, I try to shake off my moroseness, realizing that brooding isn't going to bring him back or help me finish my class presentation on brain based research. Yet, it's another Saturday night spent in my own company with nothing better to do then struggle through my boring existence. Brooding seems to be the one hobby I have and no matter that I know it isn't healthy, it's more interesting then writing a research paper.

Crossing my arms, I tap my fingers against my forearms before coming to a conclusion about what to do with the rest of my Saturday. The truth is, I can't stand the thought of spending one more Saturday night alone. In actuality, I know that before this, I _did_ spend most of my Saturdays alone, yet there was always the thought or knowledge that I could call Trunks or he would call me to go out and spend a night on the town. Even though towards the end I didn't like spending my time babysitting him, it was better then sitting in endless agony. Shutting down my computer, I stand up and stretch and then head towards the door, pausing in front of my kitchen.

Looking towards a particular silverware drawer, I think for a moment. I can feel an itch in my fingers to go over there and open it, extracting a certain business card that no matter how much I try to pretend I don't have, keeps burning a hole in my head. Yet, I'm not desperate enough to call a complete stranger who can't possibly be in their right mind. So I ignore it for the millionth time and instead, pull my winter coat on and slip on a pair of gloves before going to unlock the door.

As soon as my fingertips touch the knob, the doorbell rings, causing me to flinch slightly before opening it. I wonder if a certain violet-eyed man will be standing on my stoop. However, it isn't Murasaki Shinji and instead a rather familiar head of dark hair and tall form greets me before pushing their way into my apartment.

"Gohan, what're you doing here?"

He smiles at me sheepishly, shaking the snow out of his shaggy hair, leaving drops of water to splatter across my tile floor.

"Because I like flying when it's cold enough to freeze my eyelashes off."

I gape at him stupidly, which only earns a chuckle and a slap on the back.

"I swear Goten, you have no sense of humor whatsoever. Ah well, sarcasm has never been my forte. Were you planning on going out? Going on a date? Mom's been talking about how it's past time you settle down. In fact, that's all she can talk about besides making comments about how Videl and I haven't gotten around to having another child. It's pretty embarrassing. But you know Mom…"

Hmph…Mom. If she knew I was gay, she'd probably try to beat me before fainting at the thought of her dear son in love with another man. Sighing, I remove my coat and then put my hand out for Gohan's.

"Really Goten, if you have plans, don't stop them on my account. I just came by to see if you needed any help with school since I was in the area."

I shrug and hang up our jackets and then step into the kitchen, grabbing a strawberry soda and chucking it at Gohan's head. He catches it instantly and cracks it open, taking a long swallow before burping loudly and smacking his lips in a most disgusting manner.

"Ahh, that's great Goten. I have to say, you do keep the best soda around in that fridge of yours."

"Yeah, and your manners have gone down the toilet. Man, if either Mom or Videl were here, they'd smack you upside the head for being so gross."

He just laughs and then heads over to the futon, leaning back and cocking his towards my direction.

"Are you going to join me or are you going to stand in your kitchen the rest of the evening? I mean, I don't mind entertaining myself but the idea was to have a proper visit with my favorite little brother."

I shake my head at him. Sometimes, Gohan is a complete enigma. Growing up, I guess you could say I idolized him. He was always mature for his age, something I'm sure had to do with the circumstances surrounding his childhood. Considering the amount of shit he went through, it's amazing to me that he's as…normal as he is. He's kind, considerate, somewhat of a nerd, a good father, a loving husband, a caring brother, and a dutiful son. He covers up his Saiyan heritage very well, for all that he was at one point, the most powerful person on our planet, he's never been one for fighting, preferring to indulge in a life of normalcy. Yet, as I've grown up, the straight laced Gohan I always thought I knew has shown himself to be on more then one occasion, rude, disgusting, and even perverted. Of course, he would never show this side of his personality to anyone but me, which I find flattering. I suppose it comes from our bond as brothers. We are both comfortable with who we are in front of one another.

Grabbing an apple soda for myself, I round the small counter and flop myself down next to Gohan.

"So Goten, what's up?"

I blink at him, not sure as to how to respond to that question. I've actually been seeing him quite a bit since school started, so he knows exactly what's going on in my public life. However, I have a feeling that this question is being tactfully directed towards my private life. Thinking for a second, I pop the cap of my soda and take a swig before answering his inquiry.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

"Goten, be honest with me. What's going on between you and Trunks?"

I'm not really surprised by that question. After all, besides Trunks, my brother knows me best and I'm sure he's noticed the amount of time I've been spending alone. He also works for Capsule Corporation in research and development, one of the departments co-headed by Trunks, so he has the added benefit of seeing the cause of my current misery on a day-to-day basis.

Shrugging, I ask him why he thinks there's something going on between the two of us.

I watch as he sits up, adjusting his argyle sweater before turning his tall frame sideways and glancing at me with an incredulous look.

"Goten, give me a little credit in the brains department. You might be acting like everything is peachy in your life, which I guess is better then how you were this summer, but I _know_ you like the back of my hand. Things aren't good between the two of you, and even though you're putting on a good act, I'm really worried about you. Trunks as well, while we're on the record. He's always been somewhat of a loose cannon as our department head, missing more days of work then when he's actually present. Yet, it's been even worse the last few months and I can pin it to about the same time you started showing signs of being depressed. So what is going on?"

I swallow uncomfortably, suddenly feeling confined by the futon. Standing up, I walk over towards the window and glance outside at the still falling snow. There is such a twisted dichotomy of my own feelings for Trunks, and there are certain aspects of our relationship that I do not want made public, even to my own brother. Stiffening my shoulders, I spin around and look him in the eyes.

"We had a fight."

He scrunches the skin on his forehead together before removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"You always fight. At least, recently that seems to be the case. But this goes deeper then that, doesn't it? I've never seen the two of you stay angry with one another for more than a month and it's been…"

He counts backwards on his fingers before finishing his sentence.

"Three. So what changed? It's painful to watch you like this Goten. You seem lost without Trunks and I think he feels the same way."

"So what, you're coming here so that you can get us back together? So you can satisfy your conscious, that you did the right thing?" I shout, walking over to where he is sitting and grabbing him by the sweater so that our faces are an inch apart.

"Well save your noble intentions. Trunks is…Trunks is a fucking bastard and he's made it clear to me that he could give two shits about what happens to us. He left me and he isn't coming back, and I'm not going to beg. I'm better off without him." With that, I shove him back into the futon before sitting back down.

I know it isn't fair for me to be angry with Gohan, and in truth, I'm angrier with myself then with him. However, I know he won't ditch me, no matter how hurtful I can be towards him. That point is proven when he puts his glasses back on his face and then grabs me into a bone-crushing hug. After a few seconds, he lets go and I find myself wondering why he didn't pound me for attacking him. Relaxing slightly, I slide up against the cushions and sit there, feeling slightly better for letting out some of my pent up frustration and aggression. Turning my head to the left, I take a quick look at Gohan, noting that he's jiggling his leg as he waits for me to say something.

"Gohan…I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For nearly decking you."

He shifts on the futon and purses his lips slightly, as though he's thinking about something.

"Hey, I know it isn't my business what goes on between you and Trunks. I guess I asked for it, but I think you needed to let off some steam. It isn't healthy to let your anger fester inside of you. But on that topic, it isn't healthy for either of you to let whatever caused you to fight ruin what you two have spent a lifetime building. You've always had a special bond with each other and that only intensified the older you got. Yet, we've all seen signs that the two of you are struggling with something…it's probably the fact that you are both changing as people and your relationship is going through changes as well. It's natural. However, it isn't natural to let those changes break it apart. I'm not going to say anything more about it. What happens to what you share is between Trunks and yourself. I just want you to know that if you ever want to talk about it, or anything for that matter, I'm always around."

With that said, he rises from the futon and walks over to the door, grabbing his coat and throwing his empty soda bottle into my recycling bin.

"I'm going to go. You obviously had plans and I think it would do you some good to get out of here. Your suffocating, Goten, and it's really worrisome. Just…think about what I said. I'm there for you Goten."

And with that, he's out the door, leaving me once again alone. I sit for a few more minutes before getting up and going to my bedroom. Collapsing face first onto the mattress, I forget about my plans of going out and instead decide to go to bed, not having the energy or motivation to go out and make the motions of being sociable. It's too much work and sleep in much easier to attain. At least, when I'm asleep, I don't have to think about my loneliness or the shit in my life. Closing my eyelids, I drift off too oblivion.

* * *

The rest of my weekend isn't much of an improvement from Saturday. I spend all day Sunday working on my research paper and on scheduling for work. Before I know it, Monday is smacking me in the face. I make it through the usual Monday routine at work and find myself at West City University's student center, hunched over my laptop, working on a presentation for my class.

I've been here for at least two hours and my stomach is growling, yet I ignore it in favor of adding animation to the slides in my Power Point presentation. This is how I spend my Monday nights. It's a fairly pathetic existence, hanging out at school even though my class meets Tuesday and Thursday nights. Yet, it's become my refuge away from my growing negativity and depressed attitude. I don't have to think about the thoughts that tend to gravitate towards my mind when I'm alone in my apartment. Instead, I have the excuse of being able to concentrate on making sure all of my papers and presentations are done to the best of my ability, which takes up all of my spare thoughts.

Finishing a slide, I preview it before I move on to the next one, satisfied with the way it looks. Chewing on my lip, I try to decide how I want to improve the layout of the next slide when my sixth sense clues me in that I am no longer alone at my table. Glancing upward, my eyes land on a face that is familiar, yet one that I wish I never had to see again.

"So Son Goten, we meet again."

His hair is shorter and darker; the blond highlights having vanished, yet there is no mistaking the violet eyes or the slightly androgynous appearance of this person. Swallowing uncomfortably that I should have his features so well documented in my head considering that I only met him once, I cover up my discomfort by acting angrier then I really am.

"What do you want Shinji? Have you started stalking me here at school, too?" I growl out before latching my eyes back on my computer screen, not really giving him the chance to answer my questions. Yet, just like during our last encounter, he doesn't take the hint and instead seats himself across from me, his chin resting on steepled hands as he stares at me. Eventually his staring penetrates my uncaring façade enough to let my irritation seep through. Lifting my face from my computer, I give him a hard look.

"You're a very stubborn person, Son Goten. And no, I'm not stalking you. I simply came by for a cup of coffee on my way home and happened to see you sitting here."

"So why can't you get your damn cup of coffee and leave me the hell alone?"

He blinks at me stupidly, as though that thought had never crossed his mind before smiling brightly.

"Because I'm happy to see you, that's why! You stopped running in the park and I haven't seen you at the grocery store. It's almost like you've been avoiding me. And no phone call, either."

Once again, I'm at a loss for words, Shinji's bizarre behavior leaving me in a state tantamount to incredulous disbelief. The more words that spill past his lips along with his childlike insistence that we are more then mere passing acquaintances convinces me that he has to be somewhat neurotic, if not insane. Or maybe he's simply stupid. Whatever the case, it only makes me feel even more foolish for having thought about calling him on more then one occasion. It only proves to me that loneliness causes people to do idiotic things. Losing my patience, I push away slightly from the table and cross my arms across my chest.

"You're a nutcase and I'm not going to call somebody who has clearly lost their mind. Any rational person would tell you the same thing."

He looks slightly downcast after hearing my verbal put down, but it isn't enough to cause him to actually get up and leave. Instead, he leans forward, closing in the distance between our faces until I have to blink and adjust my eyes so that I don't see double of him. Stunned at his audacity, I don't think to move, and suddenly, his hand is on my chin as he lifts it gently so that I'm looking into the shimmering violet of his eyes.

"I already told you Goten, that I am not insane. I know that I come across as such, and you're not the first person to accuse me of being so, but I was telling you the truth when I said I could tell when a person is in emotional pain. And you, my friend, are wallowing in it. I just want to help. That's it. No strings attached."

Taking in a shuddering breath, I push away from the table as soon as he lets go of my face and settles back into his chair, acting for the entire world as though nothing has just passed between the two of us. Yet I can't believe he has this power over me, a complete stranger except for our one encounter. My throat feels tight and my…I squeeze my eyes shut and will away my physical discomfort and the anxiety this…Shinji has brought upon me.

"I can tell you've thought about my offer. I'm just surprised that I haven't heard from you at all. Most people I give my card to call within twenty four hours."

"Well then they're just as nuts as you are." I reply harshly, still trying to center myself from looking inside his eyes. It's as though…I shake my head.

"What is it going to take for you to realize that you need a friend Goten? I can tell, just like I'm sure anybody who looks at you, that you are smothering in your own misery. I don't think you want to be alone Goten. I think you're hiding from something. In truth, if you want to know about loneliness, absolute loneliness, I can give you an account of that. However, I don't think you're ready for the reality of what that entails."

With that said, he leans back in his chair and latches his enormous eyes on my face, waiting for my answer. Shaking myself out of my stupor, I shut down my computer and snap the lid closed before standing up.

"I don't…I'm not so desperate for friends that I'd fall into the company of a crazy person. I don't care what you know about loneliness or friendship. You can think whatever you want about me, that I'm hiding from something. I don't care. Just leave me alone. If I hadn't already made it clear by not calling you, let me make it clear now. I don't want to be your friend and I don't need you as my friend."

Putting on my coat, I grab my bag and sling it over my shoulder, walking past him, surprised yet not entirely so when he quickly grabs my hand. Feeling the smoothness of his skin against my own calloused hands from spending the majority of my youth outdoors, I shudder at the contact as something very like an electric shock runs up my spine. I don't know what it is about him, but he effects me like no other person ever has, with the exception of Trunks. Stopping in my tracks, I close my eyes as I try to center myself.

"Why…why are you doing this to me?"

"Because I want to help."

I don't know what comes over me or how I can explain it properly, but after his last softly spoken assertion, I let go of my resistance. In the back of my head, I still think he's insane and that I must be equally crazy for suddenly deciding it's pointless to keep arguing with him about how I don't need friends, or how I don't want him to get to know me. The fact is, he's correct on more then one point. I am lonely. I am depressed. And I'm still trying to hide from the loss of my best friend and my homosexuality. My own anxiety in regards to Shinji simply comes from the fact that without really knowing anything about me, he has effectively gotten within my psyche and I'm tired of feeling unwanted and unloved.

Opening my eyes, I glance down towards him, noting the calm expression on his face, as though he already knows I have stopped fighting what he finds inevitable. Pulling my hand from his grip, I take a step backwards.

"Look, I need…" I don't know what to say. He nods his head, as if in understanding.

"You need space. I understand that. It's not easy coming to a decision about something that's terrifying, whether you really think it is or not. You can call me when you feel ready or…I'll probably see you around here. I work in undergraduate admissions, and since you're obviously a student, we'll probably cross paths again."

I nod my head slightly before pulling completely away from him. Not saying good-bye, I slowly make my way towards the exit of the student center, pushing my way out the door and into a swirl of snow and leaves as I head towards the bus stop.

Standing under the awning, I wait for a few minutes until a bus sluggishly chugs up to the corner and stops. Stepping absently into the warm interior, I mindlessly pay my fair before taking a seat near the back. Pressing my cheek against the cold window, I let my thoughts continue to race and zip back and forth inside my skull. How could I have let myself lose control with him? How could I have let him maneuver me into his trap, if that indeed was his plan? I wonder what his motives are, not convinced that he's only out for friendship and that he just wants to help, and yet I believe what he says too. Why would he put himself in such an awkward position if not because he genuinely feels my sadness? And his eyes…it was like looking into a mirror, a mirror of deep unhappiness, as though he really does understand what it is like to be alone or to have lost something so intangibly connected within his life that he doesn't know how to continue on without it. Just like Trunks and myself.

Shaking myself out of my stupor, I realize the bus is at my stop when it comes to whining halt. Standing slowly, I walk to the nearest exit and step off onto the cold street. Pulling a handmade scarf out of my pocket, I wrap it around my face before trudging through the slush and ice on the sidewalk before once again finding myself outside my apartment.

Slowly climbing up the stairs, I unlock the door and then walk inside, shaking the snow off my coat and shoes. Hanging up my coat, I take my bag and pull my laptop out, setting it up on my computer desk. Finished with that, I walk around my futon and head towards the refrigerator, opening it up and grabbing the leftover pizza from last night.

The first bite of cold pepperoni pizza on my tongue is like bliss, yet it doesn't wave away my uneasiness in regards to Shinji or my anxiety in concerns to Trunks. Finishing off the piece in my mouth, I wipe my hands on my work slacks before slowly edging towards the phone.

Picking it up, I dial Trunks's cell phone number by rote, waiting as the connection is made, hearing the series of rings before the voicemail box picks up. Feeling disappointed and angry at the same time, I wait for the message to finish before leaving my message after the beep.

"Trunks…I'm sorry."

That's all I have the courage to say before I hang up, feeling frustration well within my chest. I shouldn't even be the one apologizing, yet it's just as it's always been from the beginning of time. Caught in a habit I've never been able to get rid of, I find myself compelled to say sorry over and over again, even though he's obviously content to let me stew in my own despair. Hanging the phone up, I finish off the rest of the pizza caught back in my stream of thought centered on both Trunks and Shinji. One angers me while the other confuses me, yet they both happen to share some sort of power over what it is that I do.

Tossing the pizza box over to my recycling bin, I decide to call it a night, ready to fall back into nothingness as a way to relieve my own discomfort. Brushing my teeth and washing my face, I straighten up and look at my reflection in the mirror. I look…the same: wild black hair, dark brown eyes, a new growth of stubble on my cheeks. Yet, I don't feel the same. I wish I could go back to the carefree way I was before I decided enter the realm of adulthood. I doubt things would be any easier, but at least that way, I wouldn't be caught worrying about issues that are no longer black and white.

Leaving the bathroom, I cross into my bedroom and strip out of my work clothes, throwing them on a pile before crawling under the messed up covers on my bed. Snuggling under the warmth of my comforter and the softness of my pillows, I pull my arms underneath me before shutting my eyes and my turning my mind off from the cares of the world.

Oblivion is heaven.

_I guess you could say that this is the beginning of part two for this story. In my head, I have three parts, so there will be a ways to go before the ending is in sight. As a general rule of thumb, I seldom write anything short because I feel that there is no way to truly understand character motive and behavior if the story doesn't delve deeply enough. I also never write anything that has a sad ending. That being said, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Let me know what you think by sending a review, if you would like to do so. And thanks so much to all of you who have reviewed and those that continue to do so. It really does motivate to know that there are people interested in reading more of this story.  
_


	10. Chapter 10

_Disclaimer: Dragon Ball Z is owned by Toriyama Akira. As such, I make no money from writing this. Popsicle® is owned by Good Humor-Breyers® Ice Cream Company and I make no money using their name. _

_Chapter 10_

December came and went, signaling not only the end of the old year, but also the continuation of change within my own life. I turned a year older a few days before Christmas, finished my first graduate course in education with a solid B, and still found myself mourning the loss of my best friend and I suppose I can say, my first love. However, I decided with the beginning of the new year that I was going to put Trunks behind me. That aching rawness inside my chest still hadn't vanished. However, instead of allowing myself to linger on something that I most likely would never attain, I came to the decision to move on with my own life and finally start to become comfortable with the man I was developing into.

Coming to this conclusion, it brought a sense of peace yet it did not bring back the happy and carefree person I used to be before all of the troubles that had plagued Trunks's and my relationship started appearing over a year before. It felt like I was closing the door to that persona, which had been me for twenty-five years of my life. While I felt a certain sadness and a number of regrets, I stepped into a new pair of shoes, determined to make them fit.

It wasn't a life altering change, nor was it one that really stood out to the people who saw me at work or in my classes, but Gohan noticed right away. And he said he was happy, but I could tell by looking in his eyes, he felt as though there was something missing from the equation. That even while I had pulled myself out of my sinking depression, I still wasn't happy nor was I whole. Yet, because of my resolution, I knew that I would never be complete and I…I pushed my old hopes and dreams in a box and buried them as deeply as I could, determined to put the past out of sight and move toward the future, whatever that might be.

With this new attitude, I slipped through January and into February, determined not to hide from myself any longer. And into this new adventure, if one would call it that, Shinji somehow ended becoming intertwined.

I couldn't even really understand it myself. He…was strange and no matter that I still felt as though he wasn't right in the head, I couldn't continue to deny that I found him interesting and his statements about understanding loneliness compelling. I guess I figured that if he knew so much about the feeling, we at least had that much in common and perhaps he could help me understand why I continued to feel the loss of my friend even after months of being separated from one another.

After Christmas break, he found me again in the student center catching up on reading for my class. He walked over to the coffee shop, ordered two lattes, and without so much as blinking, sat across from me as though he were my long lost friend. While that part of his attitude irritated me, he was persistent and at the same time, he gave me enough space and enough time to figure out what I truly wanted from him or this relationship he was offering me. In truth, I still haven't figured that out. I think what I want is…something to fill the void. Perhaps it's the move of a desperate man to fill that emptiness with a stranger's companionship and perhaps, I'm just as crazy as Shinji. Whatever the case may be, it is no longer an option to simply avoid him or pretend he doesn't exist because that would be pointless. Although he invited himself deliberately into my awareness, I cannot deny that I let him have access because…I _need_ him in some sort of warped fashion.

I haven't told anyone about his existence, not even Gohan. It isn't because I'm ashamed of him, it's just that I have no idea how to bridge the questions that would inevitably arise if I introduced him into my circle of acquaintances, especially since I'm still struggling to figure out where he fits amongst my friends, if I can even call him that. He defies categorization. He is, as I have found out, uniquely himself and not opposed to proving to the world how bizarre he can be.

My case in point is that at the moment, he's trying to make me smile by singing a terrible rendition of 'On Top of Spaghetti' in the public student union. All he's doing is making himself look like an absolute idiot and embarrassing me to the point of wanting to hide under the table.

"Come on, Goten! Just sing a verse with me. You'll feel better, I promise you! On top of SPAGHETTI, all covered with sau…"

I grab his arm and pull him down against the table, his face almost touching the smooth, laminate surface. Hissing in his ear, I tell him in no uncertain terms that if he doesn't shut the fuck up, I will permanently remove his vocal chords. He has no idea that I could actually live up to my promise, so he smiles wryly before winking at me.

"If you don't like my singing, you could ask me nicely to stop. As it is, I think everyone thinks you're trying to kiss me."

Widening my eyes, I push away from him only to realize that the student center is eerily silent, the other students staring at the two of us and the oddity of our behavior. As soon as Shinji sits up straight in his chair, everyone still watching the pair of us averts their eyes and begins to talk. At this moment, I could kill him. Turning around, I glare at him before grabbing my philosophy of education textbook and opening it up to the chapter I was on before he started acting like a moron.

After about five minutes of silence, I can feel his leg jiggling nervously against mine. Frowning, I lower my book and watch as he twists a piece of his dark hair around his finger, his eyes absently wandering around the student center as he observes the people moving in and out as they purchase food, sit down to study, or are on their way to class.

"Are you all right?"

He stiffens at my voice and then drops his hand to the side, turning his frame around so that we are looking at each other face to face. Cocking his head to the side, I watch as he slides his eyes down my face before locking them slightly to the right of a direct line of vision.

"Yeah. I'm just bored and people are more interesting to watch than the back of your philosophy book."

I grunt slightly and shake my head.

"You don't have to sit here and keep me company. You can go home at any time. I'm not stopping you."

I don't think he likes my answer because he twists his lips into a poor imitation of a frown before his eyes light up and a smile spreads across his face. Feeling uncomfortable over his sudden change in mood, I look away and pretend to go back to studying my book.

"Goten, have you eaten dinner?"

"What?" I ask, slightly surprised at his question, considering the change of topic.

"Are you hungry?"

I let that question roll around my brain before answering it, not sure what direction he's planning on taking my reply.

"A little," I lie, considering that I'm currently starving.

He cocks his eyebrow up slightly, widening his already rather feminine looking eyes, letting me know that he thinks I'm full of shit. I shift my feet nervously underneath the table as he openly stares at me, once again twirling his short hair around his finger.

"Would you stop staring at me? No wonder everybody thinks you're…"

"What? Weird, crazy, or gay? You can take your pick. I've been accused of being as such at least once in my life, if not more times."

I roll my eyes at him and mutter under my breath that I wasn't going to say any of those things, although I'm sure he knows better. Still, he does have a talent for acting beyond the way a normal person would respond to certain situations. Letting out a sigh, I lean back in my chair and decide to return his characteristic stare, which leads to a very unappealing snort of laughter.

"You can try all you want to master my stare, but I'm the true artist. Anyway, I have this brilliant idea. Do you want to hear it?"

Not really. Knowing Shinji, it probably won't be that great. However, to be polite, I shake my head yes while still trying to outstare him, knowing that I can always decline should his offer be strange, uncomfortable, or ridiculous. I don't think he picks up on my overt sarcasm as he suddenly beams.

"Great! How about you pack up your books and come over to my apartment? I'll cook you dinner and you can study your philosophy garbage."

I almost choke on my own spit, not expecting that invitation at all. So far, in the last two months since I've started having this…unique relationship with Shinji, he's never once mentioned going anywhere alone with him, which immediately made me feel much more comfortable around him than had he been forceful in accelerating our relationship. Pushing my chair away from the table a few inches, I try to wrap my mind around what it is he's _really_ asking, still slightly skeptical about what he wants from this relationship with me. Deciding that he probably means no harm, I settle on rejecting his offer as gently as possible while being firm.

"That sounds like a good idea, but you don't have to go to all the trouble of cooking me a meal. I'll be fine if I just go home or grab a snack here. Besides, it's already seven and I've got to be at work tomorrow morning at eight."

Happy with my answer, my satisfaction is short lived. If I have learned anything about Shinji in the last two months, it's that he is extremely persistent when he wants something, and he's not averse to applying counter arguments to sway his opponent in his favor. I suddenly have the uncomfortable sensation that I'm not in control of this situation, no matter how much I wish I were, especially when he looks at me seriously, something that he rarely does.

"Come on Goten, I know you're hungry. Your stomach has been growling constantly for the last hour at least. Loudly, I might add."

I blush in embarrassment at his abrupt manner in regards to the gurgling sounds coming from my gut.

"Besides, it's Friday night. You told me you don't work on Saturdays. If you stay up too late at my place studying, you can always spend the night. I've got plenty of room. I mean, what do you think is going to happen if you hang out with me? I've already told you more than once that I'm only here to be your friend and I don't take my promises lightly. I just don't want to think of you stewing all alone in your apartment for the eighth Friday in a row since we've started hanging out. It's a rather depressing thought, don't you think?"

"What makes you think that I'm going to go home and 'stew' in my apartment, as you put it?" I ask crossly, put out by his argument that effectively traps me in my lie _and_ shoves out in the open the concerns that have been floating around in my thoughts about his intentions.

He sighs and rubs his long fingers through his short hair, as if frustrated.

"Because I just know that's what you do. I mean, it's not like I really go and hang out on Friday nights either, and the places I usually frequent when I do go out are probably not areas where you would ever go, but still…I'm not stupid. Lonely and depressed people hang out alone. That's all there is to it. At any rate, I know you think you can persuade me that you're perfectly fine by yourself, and I'm sure you are, but I am not taking no for an answer. You're coming over and that's final. So come on. Pack up your stuff and follow me out to my car."

I look at him with a dumbfounded expression, being maneuvered into his little plan quite effectively. Shaking off my stupor, I watch as he grabs my book and shoves it in my book bag before standing.

"Come on, Shinji…"

He snaps his eyebrows together at my tone of voice and gives me a stern look, one that would do a mother proud. Affronted by his suddenly forceful personality change, I feel foolish and awkwardly follow him out of the student center and into the parking lot, pulling my coat on along the way.

After a few minutes of trudging across the slick pavement, we come to a blue sedan. I watch as he pulls a key ring out of one of the pockets accenting his navy blue pea coat. Pressing the unlock button, the car beeps and he opens the back seat door, throwing my book bag in the back before climbing into the driver's side.

"Get in, Goten, before you turn into a Popsicle."

"I wasn't going to turn into a Popsicle," I mutter under my breath, opening the door and sliding into the passenger seat. He waits for me to close my door and buckle up before starting the ignition and pulling out of the parking lot.

We sit in silence for the ten-minute car ride to Olympic Apartments, where he resides. My mind is whirling with many thoughts mostly related to why he would insist on me coming over or why I was so _pansy assed_ that I let him push me towards his little idea. Sighing under my breath, I watch as he pulls into a parking garage and maneuvers his car inside a tight parking spot before putting the parking brake up and turning the vehicle off. Unbuckling my seatbelt, I wait for him to exit the car before leaning over the front seat to retrieve my bag and then exit his car, slamming the door and quickly following him towards the entrance and then to the second elevator in the downstairs lobby.

The ride up to the seventeenth floor is quiet, neither one of us saying anything. I briefly have this feeling that he's just as uncomfortable having me over, that he won't be in his element, and that I might find out more about him, but I shake the sensation off. The fact is, it wouldn't make any sense for him to have invited me into his sanctuary had he felt uneasy over the prospect of revealing more of his personal life. Still, his silence only makes me wonder, since Shinji is rarely quiet.

Soon enough, the elevator stops on the seventeenth floor. With a ding, the door opens and I find myself following Shinji down a long corridor before he turns a corner and stops in front of a door. He presses a code in on his keypad and the door opens. As soon as it does, he turns to me and his normal, idiotic smile is plastered across his lips.

"We're here! Come on in and make yourself comfortable. My only rule is that you take your shoes off in the entryway and hang your coat up on the coat stand. Otherwise, you can set up wherever you like."

Raising my eyebrow at him skeptically, I step through the threshold of his apartment and find myself suddenly impressed with the size and the layout.

His apartment makes mine look like a ghetto dump heap.

The kitchen is off to the left in the back with a large island and a sizable eating area. There is a balcony fronting the opposite side of the main living area, which has an excellent view of the park and the skyline of West City glittering in the distance. A fireplace stands against the wall next to a wide hallway. The furniture looks fairly new and art nouveau decorates the walls; strange pictures and odd statues littering the apartment somewhat tastefully. It's also extremely clean, with not a speck of dust to be seen or dirty clothes anywhere, at least within the viewable area.

I realize at that moment that Shinji must have a very lucrative position within admissions to be able to afford living in such a spacious and new apartment. Feeling self-conscious, I slowly pull my coat off and hang it up before removing my shoes. Stepping out of the small entryway, I move awkwardly towards the couch, not sure where else to go. Shinji seems to have no problems with this as he suddenly grabs my arm and drags me around, before pushing me on top of the soft and squishy cushions his large couch affords.

"You don't need to shove me," I mutter at him tersely, which only earns a lopsided smile.

"You're acting like a bull in a china shop. Stop being so…prudish."

Prudish? I've been called many things, but not that. Twisting my lips to a grimace, I settle back against the couch before I pull out my book from my bag and open it to where I was reading, trying to not let the awkwardness of the situation or the discomfort of my own feelings get in the way of my studying.

"I'm going to change. Think about what you want to eat. Your choices are either linguini with a basil pesto sauce and grilled chicken _or_ steak gorgonzola with a mozzerela, spinach, and tomato salad."

With that said, he turns around and walks down the hallway, disappearing into the end room and closing the door behind him.

Staring at the closed doorway, I wonder who would ever cook such meals for themselves and if he's been planning this for a while. I certainly never have made such in-detail recipes for myself, mostly only cooking things that are instant or ordering out. However, when has Shinji ever fit the mold of normalcy? The more time I spend with him, the more I am convinced that if he isn't gay, he definitely has some stereotypical attitudes that surround him. He's almost…womanly, yet I would never tell him that.

Shaking my head, I fix my mind once again on my book, also thinking that it would be quite easy for me to slip out the balcony and fly back to my apartment. The thought is a tempting one, yet Shinji proves to be a fast changer, as he suddenly appears in the hallway entrance wearing a pair of red lounge pants and a plain white T-shirt.

"You weren't thinking of leaving, were you?" he asks nonchalantly, raising my hackles slightly the way he seems to be able to read my mind so effortlessly, his large eyes drilling me.

Shaking my head slightly, he smiles and winks at me, as if to say that he knows I'm lying once again. Feeling butterflies in my stomach, something that rarely happens to me, I edge up against the back of the couch and decide to fake interest in my textbook, burying my face within its pages. I can sense Shinji's weak ki as he moves away towards the kitchen, padding past me slowly as if eyeing up my embarrassed and nervous manner. I let out a little sigh of relief, a soft breath of air past my lips when I hear a cupboard bang and the rattle of pots, a sure sign that he's about to start cooking.

I can't honestly tell you what it is about Shinji that unsettles me, but sometimes he makes me feel as though he's some sort of spider and I'm a dim-witted fly that got stuck in his web. It could be his mannerisms, his unerring ability to detect my lies or my true feelings, or it could be the fact that he defies categorization amongst the few friends or acquaintances I've ever had. I also can't read him or what it is he's after. My thoughts regarding him are constantly shifting, and I don't like the feeling of not _knowing_ what it is he wants or what it is he's after. He keeps saying he only wants friendship, or to help me not be so lonely after my disastrous last encounter with Trunks, yet I'm never really certain. I don't like being uncertain and I don't like being played up as a fool, although I'm sure that is not his intention.

Once again, I find myself letting out a sigh as I drop my book, letting it slip through my fingers to land in my lap. Yawning, I decide to glance around his apartment to get a better feel of who Shinji is. As of yet, the only things I really know about him is that he works in admissions for West City University, lives here in Olympic Apartments, drives a blue car, can be extremely obnoxious, apparently likes to cook, and can be flamboyant when he wants to be. Otherwise, when it comes to the depth of his personality, who he really is or what his ambitions are, I have no idea. In the back of my head, I tell myself that it's better I know nothing of him because that would mean he would move from being an acquaintance of no standing to somebody who is more than a name and a face. That it would complicate things, especially when I have no idea what I really want from him or what he wants from me except to fill the loneliness left from when Trunks pushed me out of his life.

I can hear him humming an off key tune as he clatters around the kitchen. Using the sound of his work as a cover for my own curiosity, I slowly let my eyes travel along the smooth walls, glancing at his bookcases and shelves. Unfortunately, except for his strange taste in artistic expression, he has no visible mementos of anything regarding himself: no pictures of family or friends, no photo albums to ponder, or any particular books that would point to a specific interest of his. He's purposely made himself an enigma, even within his home.

Pushing myself forward on his couch, I twist my body around so that I can see him working in his kitchen. The smell of the food is almost unbearable, especially since I really am hungry. I watch as he chops something up, putting it inside a frying pan. It's obvious he knows what he's doing and that cooking happens to be something he enjoys.

"So Goten, what did you want? The steak or the chicken?"

Blinking dumbly, I realize I had forgotten he was going to ask what it is that I want to eat. Truthfully, I'd eat the bricks in his walls if they were edible, but I'm obviously not going to tell him that. Deciding that steak sounds appealing, the thought of eating red meat with juices dripping down my chin inflaming my already obvious hunger, I tell him as much. To this, he only shakes his head before opening his fridge and extracting a package of meat.

I sigh yet again before turning around and picking up my book. Fingering the edge, I read a few sentences and then lose myself to random thoughts about this or that, my fleeting attention span already eaten up during my time in the student center.

"Oh, _Goten_! Supper is ready!"

I jump out of my stupor, realizing that I must have dozed off. Standing up, I lay my book on the coffee table and stand up, walking slowly towards the table. The dinner smells…good, although to be honest, I'm not much of a picky eater as long as it is edible. It also looks…appetizing, my mouth instantly salivating and my stomach erupting in a loud rumble at the thought of being fed. Pulling out a chair, I sit down and pretend not to notice Shinji as he places a generous portion of pasta on my plate, adding the steak to the top. He serves himself a smaller amount and then walks back into the kitchen, taking a bottle off his wine rack. Immediately, I can feel my palms beginning to sweat and a sick feeling enters my gut. There's no way that a normal person wouldn't take this as a date, or at least as some sort of advance.

"Do you like merlot or cabernet sauvignon?" he asks nonchalantly, standing with one of his hips sticking out, his strange eyes fixed on my face.

"Ummm, I don't really drink wine," I answer lamely, which is the truth. I have no idea what the difference would even be between the two names he rattled off. I try to relax as he takes my answer in stride, putting the bottle he was holding back and extracting a new one. Grabbing a cork remover, he pulls the stopper out with a relish and then brings the bottle over, pouring me a moderate amount before pouring himself a glass.

Seating himself, he takes his napkin and puts it across his lap before blinking and giving me an odd look. Unsure of myself, of him, and of the situation, I swallow deeply before fixing a look at the plate of food in front of me.

"Well, dig in! Unless you like cold pasta and steak."

I shake my head at that and pick up my fork, slowly bringing a bite of steak to my lips. Sliding it inside my mouth, I let the flavors and texture wrap around my taste buds before swallowing. It's actually quite good, better than I expected. Lowering my fork, I take a sip of the wine, puckering my mouth at its tartness before letting it also seep down my throat, mixing its flavor with that of the steak.

"What…what wine did you pick?" I ask, not really sure what else to say.

"Merlot. It's not as full-bodied as the cabernet sauvignon, so I figured you'd like it better. Is it good?"

"Uh, yeah."

End of conversation. Letting out a deep breath, I pick up my fork and start to eat, making sure to not let Shinji know exactly how hungry I am or how immense my appetite is. After about ten minutes, my food is eaten and my wine glass is empty. He doesn't say anything as he pours me another glass and puts more pasta on my plate. I feel out of my element and part of me is offended at his treating me like someone unable to serve themselves. However, I let that feeling slide away as I once again tuck in and finish a second helping and a second glass of wine.

"Are you normally this quiet when you eat?"

Looking up from my plate, I shrug at Shinji's inquiry, not willing to divulge any more of myself than I absolutely have to towards him. He sighs at this and leans back against his chair, raising his arms above his shoulders and crossing his hands behind his head. He levels me a look, his usual animation and pretentiousness replaced by a seriousness I have never associated with him in the short time we have become acquaintances.

"Trying to figure you out is…you're strange, Goten."

_I'm_ strange? To me, it's like calling the kettle black.

"You're…I don't know. You're terrified about something. Is it me? I think it is, but then again, I don't think it is. So, are you terrified of me? I've never inspired that feeling in anyone before, so I guess I could say I feel flattered by that, but at the same time, it's insulting."

I don't know if he's trying to goad me, so I play stupid and pretend not to have heard his question. The truth is, on a conscious level, I don't know what I think about him except that he's decidedly eccentric. If I delve deeper into my subconscious, I know the truth about my previous relationship with Trunks, my own sexuality, and where Shinji fits between those two paradigms, yet I don't want to acknowledge those feelings or thoughts to him, or to myself. I just want to move on and away from them.

"Come on Goten. Why don't you just talk to me? You're so distant most of the time."

I give him in incredulous look before pushing my empty plate away. Why should I talk to him about my innermost thoughts? I don't trust him as far as I can throw him, yet there is not point in denying the truth that he somehow draws me to him. Still, that doesn't mean he's my confident.

"Fine. Don't talk. Be miserable."

He pulls his hands from behind his head and pushes his chair back, standing up to remove the dirtied plates and silver from his table. I can tell he's disappointed in me, but what does he expect? I used to not be so distrustful of people, but I've grown up since my naïve years in high school and community college, when I would blindly follow anybody who seemed somewhat credible. Trunks changed that perception, though. He changed it before I even realized what had happened, when he started to pull away and drown himself in sex and alcohol as a way to relieve the reality of whatever problems he was dealing with. He showed me that people use people, and no matter that Shinji tries to treat his behavior towards me as that of a friend, I can't help but read more into it than that.

Watching his movements at the sink as he starts to rinse the dishes before putting them in his dishwasher, I feel slightly guilty for no apparent reason and take the rest of the dishes on the table into the kitchen. Setting them on the counter next to him, I back away and rest against the opposite counter, observing his motions as he runs the dishes under water and systematically stacks them according to size.

"Do you like it?" he asks suddenly, not pausing as he continues to stack dishes in his dishwasher.

"Do I like what?" I reply, thinking to appease him for some reason unknown even to myself.

"Being miserable. You know, you could write a book about it. You _ooze_ it. It's no wonder you don't have any friends. Who'd want to hang out with such a sour and lifeless person, besides me?"

I huff in irritation before crossing my arms and turning my face away from his back.

"I'm not miserable."

"You are."

I want to act childishly and snap out another rebuttal, but I decide to ignore the urge and stand in silence.

"Well, you aren't the only person in the world who's miserable. However, you _are_ the only person I know who's completely resistant to the idea of ending their own internal suffering. It's like you're punishing yourself for something you did, but that's just stupid. People make mistakes. That's how they learn. So get over whatever it is that's making you think you don't deserve happiness and start trying to at least act like there's some life inside that head of yours."

"Look Shinji, I never asked you to get involved in my life and quite frankly, I don't appreciate you trying to dictate to me how I should change. Besides, what's in it for you? I mean, what normal person comes up to a complete strange and offers to help with no thought of some sort of remuneration? What do _you_ want, huh? Because it's got to be something more than mere friendship. I mean, I know absolutely nothing about you. You think I hide myself, but you're just as bad."

His back stiffens at my comments. Slowly, he dries his hand on a towel before shutting the water off in the sink and turning around to confront me. His face is taught but his eyes are…they are soft and his expression is that of somebody who understands something essential that I'm apparently missing.

"You're so distrustful, Goten and that is…I feel sorry for you."

My eyes bulge and I try to say something, but he puts his hand up to stall whatever words that would spill out over my lips from reaching him.

"I don't want anything. All I want is what you are willing to give."

"But that's so…" I try to sputter out, but he stops me by shaking his head.

"Ambiguous? Perhaps, but I've never lied to you. It's what you want Goten. That's all it's ever been. As for hiding myself, why don't you just ask me? I know you have a million questions burning in your head about me, except you've never once tried to find out the answers. I can't give you them if I don't know what it is that you want. So what do you want?"

I close my eyes. What do I want? Although Trunks never asked me aloud what I wanted, it was something I know he had in his mind and I couldn't give him an answer. When I finally did, he turned away from me. I don't want to have that happen again. Not like that.

"It's not…it's not that simple."

"You don't think it's simple? Well, why don't you push that thought away for a second and just ask me something, anything that's on your mind. It's the only way you'll find out if I'm telling you the truth."

I don't even think. I just blurt out the first question that flits through my brain.

"Are you attracted to me?"

I have a feeling he wasn't quite expecting that, and I feel foolish for letting my own insecurities jump forward in such a manner, yet he merely blinks before answering.

"Yes."

Lifting my eyebrows in disbelief, I snort at him before laughing incredulously.

"Yet all you want is friendship? Give me a fucking break, Shinji! God, you're…you're really a piece of work."

I give him an appraising look before walking away to grab my book bag, and to his credit, he doesn't even flinch.

Picking up my book bag, I head towards the door and go to grab my jacket before Shinji's voice cuts through and stops me in my tracks.

"I've never…lied to you about that. I would have assumed you had figured that out from the beginning. But I'm telling you the truth. I just want friendship. However, if you want…well, like I said Goten, it's up to you."

I shake my head at him before pulling my coat on. Turning around, I level him a condescending look.

"What makes you think I'd ever…no, forget it. I don't want to know."

He doesn't attempt to stop me while I put on my shoes and then open his door. At least, I don't think he plans on doing anything until I try to step through the doorway.

"You know, we always fear what we don't understand and what also happens to lay closest to our hearts. You're unhappy and you don't want to change that because you're afraid of something. I'm not going to make any conjectures as to what your recent past was like, but I can tell you from personal experience that when some uncomfortable truth comes to the surface, the hardest thing to do is to accept it for what it is. Yet, it has to happen because otherwise, you'll be living like this for the rest of your life. Do you seriously want that, Goten?"

I lick my lips, uncomfortable to how close he has come to the truth about me. Backing up inside his apartment, I close the door and stare at it. I almost jump when I feel his hand on my shoulder, instantly stilling my instinct to strike out physically.

"Just…come in. I don't want you to leave angry with me."

Half-closing my eyelids, I nod my head and push my shoes off before allowing him to lead me back to his living area. Sitting on his couch in my winter coat, I barely observe him as he backs away into his kitchen, lost in my thoughts about why I always end up pulled inside his plan to…help me.

Eventually, I feel the cushions shift as he sits next to me, handing me a mug of something warm.

"Coffee," he says, as if I wanted to know.

"Why do you really care?" I ask suddenly

"Why do you think? I've been in your shoes. I know what it's like to feel rotten, and it sucks. I wasted five years of my life wallowing in my own misery before I got a clue and it was because somebody showed me that I was…well, that I wasn't as bad as I thought I was. I don't want you to end up wasting five years of your life trying to figure that out. Nobody should have to go through it."

"And it has nothing to do with…you know?" I ask, too embarrassed and uncomfortable with the fact that he admitted he likes me in…a sexual way.

He gives me slight smile before turning away to sink back into the cushions of his couch.

"No, not really. Well, I guess that is kind of a lie. I started watching you in the park when you began running because…well, you're quite fit. But, I never thought about approaching you because of _that_. You never really came across as the kind of man who would reciprocate such a feeling. At least, not at first. But whatever. I usually read into that sort of thing too much."

I let his assumption slide because it is the truth and it would be stupid to refute.

I take a sip of his coffee, which is stronger than my usual liking. Setting the mug down on the coffee table, I try to think of something to say since I've been reeled back inside his house.

"So you're…um, gay?" I suddenly ask, knowing the question sounds pretty lame, especially considering I had my suspicions ever since first meeting him in the grocery store. To his credit, he only smiles before answering, ignoring my blush of embarrassment over my own ignorance.

"I prefer to be called homosexual, but yeah, I'm gay. Does that offend you? You seemed pretty pissed a few minutes ago."

Well, I was…mostly because his confession of attraction led too closely to the heart of my own problems. That, and the fact that finally knowing another man likes me the way Trunks supposedly did is uncomfortable. It mirrors too closely my own feelings. I decide to try and clear the air.

"Um, I'm not offended. You, uh, aren't the first man who's liked me."

I know my face has turned three shades darker because I can feel the heat of my blood rushing inside my cheeks, mortified that I just told him such an intimate secret. However, for some strange reason, I know that he isn't going to canvas such a fact around school or the community because that wouldn't follow what I've gleaned about his personality.

"Huh. Well…now that that's out in the open, what happens next?"

I don't really know. I still don't trust him, yet I do. In my mind, such a thought represents an unsettling dichotomy, especially concerning why part of me _does_ trust him.

Maybe it's because for all his strangeness, he has so far avoided doing anything to hurt me, something I had gotten used to with Trunks. Whatever the case, I tell him I don't know what to do.

He looks at me seriously.

"You'll just have to learn to trust me when I say I have your best interests at heart. That's what will have to happen next."

I cock my eyebrow up at him, watching as he stands and moves to the other side of the coffee table, his arms crossed over his chest.

"And what exactly are my best interests?"

He immediately answers.

"To be happy with who you are and not to give a shit about what anybody else thinks. I think that's your problem. You let people tell you what to do because you want approval. Well, the issue there is that no matter what you do, you will never please everybody. It's an impossible situation. You've been trampled on a bit too much and something terrible happened that made you realize, I don't know, a lot of the problems that you never really noticed but which have been plaguing you for as far back as you can remember. Well, I could be wrong about all of this, but I don't think I am. Like I said, I'm talented at reading people and finding out what's the reason for why they aren't whole. At any rate, once you find happiness with who you are and forget ninety-nine percent of what the population thinks, you'll be much better off."

I stare at him as he throws his arms up and then steps around the coffee table to flop down on the couch next to me.

I look at him, watching his chest move as he breathes, taking in his eyes as they randomly flit to look at the ceiling while he thinks about something. Shifting on the sofa cushions, I sit up and put my hands on my knees, trying to put in perspective everything he said in his little speech.

I have to be happy with myself. I've known that for a long time. However, he's right. I've always let what people think of me sway my decisions, more concerned with the status quo than with myself. Yet, it never really got me anywhere. I never grew and when I finally started to break away from that mold, I found myself more miserable than before. I want to tell him that, but I know he's speaking the truth. I have to…find my own place of peace within myself, and once I do that, everything else will fall into place.

"So I'll ask you again, Goten. What do you want?"

His question breaks my train of thought. Turning my head slightly, I glance over at where he's sitting, his penetrating stare whittling away at my defenses. Finding an answer after a few seconds of thought, I mutter it aloud; ashamed at how easily I've been cowed by him and embarrassed over how simplistic my reply is.

"To be loved."

He hears my response and I have a feeling he is surprised over a number of things, one being the speed and honesty in which I told him my deepest desire. Yet, all he does is nod his head in understanding, as if he knew that fact from the very beginning.

"Everybody wants to be loved. And I can give you that, if you accept it for what it is."

I think about his statement and nod my head slowly in agreement. He can give me love, if indeed that feeling can ever exist between the two of us as friends. Yet, deep down inside, I know that isn't the answer. The truth is, I do want to be loved…

…by Trunks.

_Another long chapter. I tend to write lengthy ones and until I feel that a satisfactory conclusion has been met, I won't stop to begin another. I hope the flow of this chapter makes sense. I felt a bit foggy writing it. Let me know what you think, as always! Drop a review!_


	11. Chapter 11

_Disclaimer: Dragon Ball Z is owned by Toriyama Akira. As such, I make no profit from writing this story._

_Warning: There is a lime/lemon scene ahead._

_Chapter 11_

Screaming children…

Deadlines looming…

Employees asking for pay advances…

I squeeze my eyes shut and rub my temples, trying to keep the headache that threatens to burst forth contained. It is already the end of the second week of April, yet it feels like the month is dragging along at a snails pace and I am caught up between the demands of being a manger as well as that of being a student.

Standing up, I walk to my office door and stick my head out, making sure no one is loitering around the hallway to see me close it. Breathing out a sigh of relief that no one is in sight, I shut the door and then fall back into my office chair. Staring at the spreadsheet on my computer, a number of thoughts coast through my mind. The number one being that…

I'm not cut out to be an activities director.

I've had to fire two activity assistants, look at two hundred application files for the open positions, make cuts to our already stressed budget, and listen to the complaints of unhappy employees all within the first two weeks of our second fiscal quarter for the year. And was I happy about doing any of those things? No. Yet one does what they have to do when in a position of responsibility. Days like this make me think that Trunks…if his job was like this, it was no wonder he was unhappy. No amount of money could ever make a job more pleasant when part of it entails making somebody miserable at least once a week.

It makes me look forward to my graduation date when I can finally become a teacher. Unfortunately, that day looms almost a year and a half away. Still, my job isn't all that bad. At least, when I don't have to deal with the aforementioned problems.

Massaging the bridge of my nose, I look at the clock and realize I only have about fifteen minutes left before I can leave. Normally, I stay at least an hour past when my workday is over, but today…there is nothing that is going to make me put in an extra hour or two, especially since it's Thursday and I don't have class to worry about. Staring at my spreadsheet, I start to enter in numbers to designate funds that need to be transferred into different departments that go towards the activities our club provides. I slowly become engrossed in the task and don't realize that my fifteen minutes have been long past when there is a distinct rap on the window of my office door.

Jerking backwards in my chair, I glance at my clock and swear under my breath when I realize it's almost a quarter to six, forty-five minutes past when I had told myself I would leave. Standing up out of my chair, I open the door only to find Shinji standing with his arms crossed, his long fingers tapping idly against the fabric of his button down shirt.

Feeling slightly disorientated, I motion for him to come inside, letting him leave the door open.

"Umm…" I mutter aloud, confused as to why he's here. He takes the initiative and smiles warmly at me.

"You were supposed to meet me at Maurice's for coffee. I figured when you didn't show up and I waited for fifteen minutes that you'd be still here. Rough day?"

Blinking, I feel like a complete idiot. I had forgotten. Completely. Nodding my head in response to his question, I step over to my computer and shut it down, making sure to save the changes to my spreadsheet before turning it off. Grabbing my coat and shoulder bag, I push my office chair in and head towards where he's standing.

He looks at me, that stare of his penetrating my brain, leaving me in a hazy fog of uncertainty and…desire.

Shaking off both unwanted feelings, I tell him that we can leave.

We walk down the hallway together, moving towards the elevator that will take us to the first floor of the office complex which houses the boys and girls club. On the way, I see Yuki, one of the girls I work with in the activities department. She says goodnight to me and then gives both Shinji and myself a once over.

I know what she's thinking.

That Shinji's my boyfriend.

He comes often enough as it is because I'm constantly forgetting when we're supposed to meet up for coffee or just to talk. I've even heard rumors around the office concerning my sexual preferences, especially since I know that a few of the girls have been speculating about it for months. It's a bit awkward, never having been in a position where I would really hear or think anything of the rumors being canvassed about pertaining to myself and those whom I associate with. Yet, I don't do anything to refute their validity simply because…I am gay and there would be no point in denying it. As for Shinji being my boyfriend, I wouldn't go that far. I still find him strange but my own reservations about him have slowly found their way to the curb, being replaced with feelings that seem oddly similar to esteem, warmth, and even a small amount of attraction.

Shrugging off my thoughts, I pull up to the elevator and push the down button. After about a minute, the elevator door opens and we both step inside. I wait as Shinji presses the button for the basement level floor, and soon enough, both of us are on our way downstairs.

"I think she thinks you're cute."

"Excuse me?" I ask, raising my eyebrow at his strange observation.

"I said, I think that girl thinks you're cute."

Rolling my eyes at Shinji, I heft my shoulder bag upwards before leveling a retort.

"I heard you the first time. I can guarantee you that Yuki wasn't looking at me because she thinks I'm cute."

He cocks his head to the side and taps his chin, as though he's really trying to figure out why I would be so adamant in believing that Yuki isn't interested in me as a potential boyfriend. However, he doesn't have a chance to voice his opinion aloud as the elevator stops and reveals the parking garage. Stepping off of the elevator, I follow him to his blue sedan and slide in the front seat as soon as he unlocks the car, setting my bag at my feet.

We pull out of the garage and turn onto the main road before he speaks up.

"Why don't you think she thinks you're cute?"

I grumble something under my breath, which only earns me a pointed glare in the rear view mirror. Tapping my fingers against my thighs, I glance at him out of the corner of my eye before mumbling an answer.

"She thinks that you and I are…are dating or something."

I can see the corner of his mouth quirk up in a slight smile before he responds to my awkward admission.

"So? That doesn't mean she doesn't find you attractive. Besides, all you'd have to do is tell her that the two of us are just friends, and you'd be free to date her. I can tell you from personal experience that girls have a certain fondness for gay men, or those whom they think prefer the same sex."

I can't help it. I burst out laughing over his strange comments, thinking of how bizarre it would be for any woman in her right mind to approach Shinji in hopes of him reciprocating an attraction. Having finally allowed myself to start to really become friends with him, there is no way that the man would ever inspire attraction from the opposite sex. At least in my mind, I can't see it happening, especially since he regularly will apply makeup to his face or wear jewelry that no straight man would ever be caught dead in, at least when he isn't going to work. Then, he cuts a very polished, if metro-sexual, look.

I'm surprised when he pulls to a stoplight and turns to give me a very affronted look. Slowly, I let my laughter die down; embarrassed over the fact that I seem to have offended the usually unflappable Shinji.

"What? You think you're the only man around who can have women fall at his feet?"

I flush slightly, unsure of how to proceed, never having really offended Shinji before, especially over something so…so _stupid_.

"Umm…" I falter helplessly, trying to think of something to say to change the negative atmosphere in the car. "No. I don't think I'm the only guy who gets girls to have crushes on them. I mean, I'm sure you…err, have had your fair share."

"I have," he says in a huffy tone of voice, as though there is some sort of contest between the two of us. Inwardly, I roll my eyes at his sudden prissiness, trying to take it in stride.

"Well, you can have Yuki," I say as the light turns green and we speed through the intersection. "She's not my type."

"I don't want her."

"Then what are you so upset about?" I ask, perturbed over his sour attitude.

"I'm not upset."

I glance away from him, deciding that it's futile to argue with him about a conversation that started out completely innocent and ended up on another track altogether, one that I can't figure out. It's as if he's angry with me over something, yet I have no idea what I did except laugh over something that he shouldn't have taken offense over, especially since he's told me that he likes men.

We drive for a few more minutes in silence, and I don't bother to ask him where he's going, when he finally speaks up. However, his topic of conversation shocks me because he has never once brought it up in the entire time we've known each other.

"I need a good fuck. I need to get drunk and fuck the first attractive man I see. I can't…"

I swallow nervously, shocked that he would say something like that in front of me. Again, my thoughts wander to where this could even be coming from. Shinji has seemed to be many things in the past, but never would I have pegged him as the type of person who, just like Trunks, would go out and relieve feelings of stress by having sex with a stranger. If indeed, that is where the problem lies.

"Forget I just said that."

Blinking at him uncertainly, I turn away and stare at my knees.

"I'm in a mood today, Goten, and I shouldn't be taking it out on you. Besides, I'm the one that's supposed to be helping _you_ to feel better about yourself, and here I am acting like an ass. I get…lonely too, you know? But whatever…I'm starved and I thought you might like the restaurant, _La Fraîche Nourriture_. How about it?"

I know he's trying to clear the air in the car, but I can't help worry that the reason he's having these strange feelings has to do with me and something I'm not doing. I wonder if I'll be cursed to always have people react to me in this manner.

"Goten?"

"What?"

"Do you want to go to that restaurant? It has a good buffet."

"Yeah, that's fine," I say as I continue staring at my knees, trying my best to not let Shinji's earlier attitude affect me. Yet, for some reason, I can't shake the feeling that it's my fault and so I sit in his car, stewing over my own deflated spirit and depressed thoughts until we arrive at the restaurant.

He gives his keys over to a valet, and as I step out of the car, I realize that this restaurant is out of my pay range.

"Shinji, I can't…"

He interrupts me with a wave of his hand and tells me it's his treat as a way to make up for his earlier incivility and for my horrific day at the office. I nod uncomfortably and follow him inside the plush restaurant, which lives up to its name by having a fresh and clean air about it that evokes a feeling of well-being.

We follow the host to our table, which sits next to a window and affords a good view of the city street. He hands us each a menu and we both immediately look through it. I can't understand any of it because it's all in French, so I set it down and wait for Shinji to finish looking it over.

"Do you know what you want?" he asks quietly as he slowly places the menu in front of himself, pushing a stray piece of hair out of his face.

"I can't read the menu so…"

He smiles reassuringly before he motions for a waiter to come over. Handing the server our menus, he fills the order with the confidence of someone who knows a great deal about food, something that is not my expertise.

"I'll have the coq au vin and he will have the buffet. Also, we'd like a bottle of good quality Reisling wine."

The server bows once and walks away, at which time Shinji gently nudges my calf with his foot to get my attention. Turning towards him, he motions for me to get up and start serving myself at the buffet, which looks…enormous. Standing up slowly, I push in my chair and leave him, heading over towards the mounds of food that are calling my name, my thoughts of discomfort put away for the moment as I concentrate of putting the choicest assortment of food on my plate. Choosing a number of things that look safe to my untrained palate, I slowly fill my plate and then head back to the table.

As soon as I sit, Shinji pours me a glass of the Reisling wine he had ordered, which surprises me by being a white variety. So far, the few times I've had wine with Shinji, he usually seems to prefer reds, but today is different. Taking a sip, I make a slight face over its tartness and dryness, still unused to drinking the stuff. He doesn't say anything at my face, instead sneaking his hand across the table to snatch one of my five hard rolls.

"Hey!"

He gives me a cheeky grin and then takes a bite, licking the crumbs off his lower lip before setting the roll down on top of his napkin.

"What? It's not like you're going to miss one hard roll. You do have four others besides two plates heaping with food. Besides, I'm hungry too and my food hasn't arrived yet."

I frown at him slightly before digging in, careful not to advertise my Saiyan appetite as I eat slowly and decisively, something I would never do had I been eating with my family or in the privacy of my own home. He watches me eat for a few minutes before he finishes the roll he stole from me and then turns his attention to the people talking animatedly while they eat as he waits for his own food to make an appearance.

His own dish, which turns out to be some sort of chicken stew with potatoes, arrives about ten minutes later, by which time I am ready for seconds. He waves me off as he settles his napkin in his lap and his cutlery in his hands. Rising for the second time, I once again make a trip to the buffet, coming back to our small table with two more plates filled to the brim with food. We eat in relative silence, something that rarely happens since Shinji has the tendency to rattle off about anything that's on his mind. Lost in our own thoughts and the mixture of flavors on our tongues, the time ticks slowly by until we are both brought out of reverie by a somewhat loud shout.

Jerking out of my food induced stupor, my fork slips out of my grasp and clatters to my plate with a loud bang. Bringing my eyes into focus, I turn to the right only to see… Bulma.

"Goten…it really is you. I didn't recognize…" Her voice drifts off slightly and I realize that she is no longer looking just at me, but at Shinji as well. The first thing I wonder is what is going through her head. I haven't seen her since…since Gohan's birthday party last summer and at that time, her son was still my friend. I have this feeling that she _knows_ things about me and Shinji's presence is unnerving to her.

Flushing slightly under her gaze, I raise my hand and scratch the back of my head nervously, a trait that she knows well. Glancing behind her as a way to focus my thoughts before I say something that might make me out to be an idiot, it takes me a second to realize that she isn't alone. Gulping nervously, I pull my hand down to my lap and take in a deep breath, trying to still my racing heart.

Why does he have to be here too?

Centering myself, I force myself to look upward so as not to come across as a coward to Vegeta. The last thing I need for him to do is take offense and punch me through the window of the restaurant, something I have no doubts he would do if pissed off sufficiently enough.

"Bulma…Vegeta. How have you been?" I ask, ignoring Shinji's sudden look of piqued curiosity, no doubt because he wonders either who these people are or he's made a correlation to Capsule Corporation and wants to know how it is that I have such connections.

Vegeta gives me a hard stare before stepping up to Bulma, pointedly ignoring my civilities. His refusal of cordialities is something he would normally do to a stranger, but it makes me feel sick that he's treating me as though I'm nothing more than a piece of dirt to be stepped on by his boot. Stamping down my own feelings of dread, I wait for him to say whatever it is he wants to say.

"I'm going to the buffet, woman. Finish your talk with the brat and then come and find me. And you'd better hurry if you don't want me to blow this place to hell."

With that, he stalks away to the buffet and yells at a man to get out of his way, which causes Bulma to roll her eyes in irritation. I watch Shinji out of the corner of my eye, who has an amused look on his face as he watches Vegeta take three plates and expertly balance them while piling as much food as he can on top of them.

"I swear that man will be the death of me. You'd think he'd appreciate going to a good buffet for our late anniversary dinner, but instead he…" her voice trails off as a slight blush heightens the color of her rouged cheeks. Sighing, I let out a breath of relief that Vegeta has gone off to tame his appetite, while at the same time, I both wonder and dread what it is that Bulma wants to talk about.

"So, Goten…Gohan says you're in graduate school and that you're working as an activities director for the West City Boys and Girls Club. You seem well. I mean, I guess I hardly now _how _you are because it's been what, nine months since I've seen you? So how are you?"

I wilt under her stare, although I can sense she means me no harm. But what can I say? I feel like anything I tell her will be a lie, especially since I don't want to bring Trunks into the conversation, certainly not with Shinji around.

Picking at my food and ignoring Shinji's curious gaze, I finally answer her inquiry.

"I'm doing okay. My jobs kind of been stressful lately and school's been tough, but Gohan's been a real help and…"

I watch as she folds her arms across her ample bosom, her lower lip sticking out as she thinks about my answer before replying.

"Are you really okay? I've been worried about you. I know…I know things between you and Trunks…Please, Goten. Can you honestly tell me that you are fine? Truly and honestly?"

I look in her eyes and I can see desperation there, as though…she understands the pain I've been fighting since losing Trunks months ago and wants to know that I haven't let it destroy me. As though…somebody else has felt the same way I've felt and lost a battle, hurting themselves and the ones who loved them best. I try to keep down the sensation of wanting to cry, wondering in the back of my mind if Trunks…if Trunks has done something horrible to himself.Yet, I know if that were the case, Bulma would tell me. At least, I'd hope she would tell me something like that. Ignoring the fear quivering within my insides, I answer her.

"I really am fine, Bulma. I've…I'm finding my way."

She mulls my words over before letting out a sigh of relief and finally cracking the smile I grew up accustomed to, at least when she wasn't yelling at Trunks or myself for getting into mischief.

"I'm sure you are finding your way, Goten. You never seemed to have a problem with that. Well…I'm really glad I got to see you with my own eyes. You've no idea…I, you're like a son to me Goten. You know that, right?"

I nod my head slowly, not sure where this conversation is going.

"Please, Goten…if you ever need anything or if you just want to come and visit, know you are always welcome. It's been ages since we've seen you at Capsule Corporation. I know things have been…strained between you and…Just don't think you aren't welcome because of that. You always are. Even Vegeta misses seeing you around, although he would never admit to it."

With that, she leans down and hugs me close to her body before letting me go and kissing me on the forehead. Feeling embarrassment surge through my body, I watch as she walks to the opposite side of the restaurant where Vegeta is eating voraciously, seating herself across from him, before I drop my eyes to my hands.

I can sense Shinji's eyes drilling me, no doubt wondering about all of these things Bulma has brought forward, which I have tried to keep hidden from him in the months since I have become acquainted with him. However, I don't want to talk to him about it. Thankfully, he takes the hint and says nothing.

After he's finished his chicken and two glasses of wine, he asks me if I am ready to leave. I nod my head slowly and we both rise, having paid for the check at our table. Walking towards the exit, Bulma catches my eye as she waves good-bye. I swallow and then raise my hand slightly in response and then slowly walk out of the restaurant to Shinji's sedan.

Settling in the car seat, I slump against the cushions as my mind tries to process my conversation with Bulma and Shinji's strange attitude. Closing my eyes, I try to make sense of it all, but the only thing I end up doing is blaming myself for what I don't understand and have no control over.

I sit like this the entire car ride until Shinji stops his car and turns the ignition off. I feel him tap me gently on the arm and I slowly open my eyes, only to realize that we aren't parked in front of my apartment. Shaking off my uneasiness, I exit his car a follow him to the elevator and then to his apartment.

He unlocks the door and we both walk through the entryway, taking our shoes off and padding across his thick carpeting. He flicks on a light switch and then sets his briefcase on the coffee table before flopping down on his couch. I follow his example and sit down next to him.

I know what's coming the moment he opens his mouth to speak.

"Who were they? That really wasn't Bulma Briefs, was it?"

I shrug.

"What does it matter if it was? I'm still a nobody in the end."

He surprises me when he takes my hand and earnestly tells me the opposite.

"Goten…you aren't a nobody. You're somebody special, somebody who has this power to…to make people realize things about themselves, yet you can't see it. You've come so far since I first met you and I don't want…I can't let you end up that way again. Do you hear me? I won't let you. I wouldn't live up to my promise if I did and I…wouldn't be your friend if I did that either."

I back away from him while leaving my hand in his warm and surprisingly strong grip.

"What makes you think I'm going to go back to being depressed and isolated?"

"Because…of what that woman said. It's because of that person she brought up, the one who's also in pain, it's because of them that you ended up like this."

"What of it? It wasn't like it happened over night. We were friends and we both fucked it up. Because it's hard being two separate people when all you want is to be the other half of the one that makes you feel whole. Can't you understand that, Shinji? He took it away from me because I couldn't…give him what he wanted. And I hate him for it yet I…It's my fault."

I don't know why, but I end up screaming this out to him before I suddenly lean over and start to sob, months of frustration and pent up anger over the situation that I had tried so hard to put away in a safe place welling to the surface. It's as if that one contact with Bulma, that one possible insight into Trunks's own condition, has brought it all back and I can't stop myself from looking like a complete weakling in front of someone who has become…important to me, in their own strange fashion.

Yet…he doesn't look at me with disgust or pity. Instead, I feel him push closer to where I'm crying into my hands like a baby, and slowly, he puts his arms around my midsection, raising me up so that I'm looking in the depths of his unfathomable violet eyes.

Pushing a tear away from my stubbly cheek, he gives me a slight smile, a quirk of his lips.

"I'm sorry that it happened to you like that Goten. I truly am. But stop telling yourself that it was your fault he turned away from you. He made the choice to leave a caring person behind. However, there will be others. There always are."

I know that he's talking from experience, yet I can't believe it. There will never be somebody who can fill the emptiness that Trunks left behind. They will only ever be a substitute. I shake my head in denial, which only earns a shushing noise from him before he leans in and…kisses me.

At first, my reaction is to pull away; my resistance slowly melts away as his hand arches up my back and glides along the nape of my neck, pulling me in closer before he slides his tongue along my upper lip. At that moment, the floodgate opens to my own forbidden desires, which have been lying dormant below the surface for months and months. I open my mouth to his, feeling his tongue rasp against my own, the taste of wine and something spicy as I cave into the act of deeply kissing another man. A man who is not Trunks.

Our tongues slide and push against each other, our teeth gently nipping at each others lips, exploring the contours of the others mouth. I feel a sudden surge to dominate, something that has always been completely foreign to me. I suck on Shinji's tongue, which elicits a high and drawn out moan from the other man. Moving my hands down his body, I find his ass and push him up and against my lap, clearly feeling for the first time his own desire pressed against my stomach. My one hand tightens against his ass as he awkwardly straddles me on his couch while his hand tightens against my hair.

I suddenly wonder how I have gotten into this position when I never desired such a thing from him, at least on a conscious level. I also wonder how far this will end up going when he pulls back away from my mouth and plants a trail of kisses along my jaw line and neck as his one hand that was entwined with my hair moves along my back, up my side, and finally against my chest.

"Shinji?" I whisper out against his face as he continues to kiss my neck and shoulder.

My voice triggers something in him as he pushes away from my shoulder to once again brush his lips against mine. Slowly, he touches my face with his hand before settling his backside against my lap.

His eyes are foggy with desire and that sight, along with his reddened lips, only further my own carnal desires, yet the back of mind knows that this isn't right. I want to push him away, yet I let him straddle me, becoming familiar with the contour of his body and his weight against my own.

"I'm a liar, Goten, and I give you leave to hate me."

"What?" I ask huskily as he leans forward and kisses my forehead and then my nose before settling on my lips again. He peppers them with light touches, frustrating and arousing me even further.

"I said it was all about you. But it's about me too," he whispers breathily against my ear, his hands rubbing against the fabric of my shirt across my chest, his ass sliding against my hips and arousal.

"What…what do you mean?"

I let out an uncharacteristic growl as he pinches my nipple against the cloth of my shirt. I try to bat his hand away, but all that does is make him chuckle darkly before he does it again.

"I want you to be happy, Goten. That is true. But I want you to…forget him. I want you to love me the way I love you."

"I can't stand this feeling of wanting you, Goten. I've never fallen…like this. I feel like a criminal, but I can't stop how I feel and I can't hide it anymore. I want you."

I can hear his words and they bring back his previous behavior and I wonder if I had this effect on Trunks, too.This ability to make another desire me like this. Yet…while I feel strongly about Shinji, my feelings having developed over the months that we have known each other, I don't love him the way I love Trunks and I won't ever forget Trunks just because I participate in a sexual act with Shinji. I know what we are doing is wrong; simply from the standpoint that it doesn't mean the same thing to me as it does to Shinji. I find myself in a quandary because I realize that I couldn't give myself to Trunks for the very same reason and it was the breaking point for what we once shared. Yet, I make a selfish decision, one based solely on my current needs at the moment and the fact that I have a willing partner who wants to take away my pain.

"I want you, too." I whisper against the shell of his ear as I wrap my arms around him and push him down against me. That's all it takes. A simple sentence. A few words, yet it changes…everything.

* * *

I sit up slowly in Shinji's bed, the sheets tangled around my legs, the smell of sex covering the entire room. Leaning forward, I place my elbows on my thighs and watch as a single moonbeam flits through the slit in the curtains, illuminating the opposite wall. I sit and…think.

I feel deep disgust and loathing towards myself. Not so much because I…because I have discovered what it is like to have intercourse with another man, but because it happened at all. I used Shinji…I used him the way I thought Trunks meant to use me and it makes me feel putrid on the inside, that I'm no better than him.

I stare at my tainted hands, an extension of my own tainted body. I'm such a hypocrite. A fucking, two-faced hypocrite. Yet by the same token, I have this feeling that if Shinji ever asks me to have sex with him again, I will comply simply because…because it's easy to pretend that he's someone else, someone who will probably never be a part of my life again. I'm a bastard. A cold-hearted fucker, and if anybody should be hated, it should be me.

Sighing, I wonder about Trunks, the reason behind my decision to allow this to have happened between Shinji and myself. Bulma hadn't said anything about him, yet…her eyes spoke volumes and I wonder what has become of the sparkling and sexually charming heir to Capsule Corporation. I wonder what I drove him to, and that thought only adds another knife to the guilt that is stabbing me in the heart.

Sitting up, I blow a piece of hair out of my face as I turn and look towards Shinji. His body is sprawled sideways across the bed, the curve of his backside facing me. And I can see the damage my desire has done to him. Bruises litter his neck and his hips, and it only makes me feel more like a monster than before. I wasn't gentle with him. I wasn't even kind. I was a sick fuck. A rampant psychopath buried inside my outwardly innocent façade.

Deciding I can't stand this feeling of revulsion, I shove the covers off my body and stand, only to hear Shinji's movement as he rolls over onto his back and then watches me, his eyes half-lidded with sleep.

"Where ya goin, Go-chan?" he whispers hoarsely, no doubt from the amount of screaming that pushed past his lips when I fucked him into the mattress. It's like another nail pounded into my coffin. Chocking back a moan of despair, I turn my head towards him and stare. He looks so different naked in the moonlight, almost as though he's an ethereal angel and I became the devil that…used him to satisfy my own warped and hidden desires.

"Home."

For some reason that I don't register, he looks upset. He sits up and pulls the sheets up over his nakedness, clutching them to his thin chest.

"Why? Did I…you aren't disgusted with me, are you?"

I blink.

"Why would I be disgusted with you?"

"Because I lied to you and I …you really do hate me, don't you, Goten?"

I can sense the worry in his voice, as if I could hate him. Sure, maybe he wasn't one hundred percent honest with me, but who would I have been kidding had I said that I never once thought he desired me? It's been there since the beginning and I was the sicko who waited for him to make a move so that I could relieve my own sexual frustration. If anyone has been a liar, it's me: to myself and towards him.

"Do you want me to…to spend the night?" I ask, wondering why he would want such a thing from me.

"Of course. This wasn't meant to be a one night stand."

I stare at him again, at a loss for words. I watch as he pulls the covers aside in an entreaty to climb back inside his bed. And I, being the kind-hearted hypocrite that I am, can't refuse him. Grumbling slightly, I step towards the bed and climb back in, the mattress dipping as my weight settles down on top of it. Slowly, Shinji brings the sheets up over my legs and hips before he leans over and kisses me gently on the lips. He then places his hand against my chest, pushing me gently down until I'm laying against the mattress, my head buttressed by a soft pillow.

"Go to sleep," he whispers gutturally into my ear. "I'll make you a good breakfast when you wake up." With that said, he rolls away and pulls the covers up over his shoulders. Eventually, I can hear his soft snores as he falls once again into a deep sleep.

I stare at the ceiling. If Trunks new what I had done tonight, he would rightfully hate me. I wonder if I will ever have his love or if I'm even worthy of it now.

_Okay, I hope you don't hate me for this chapter. Maybe it wasn't what you were expecting? At any rate, there is a reason behind all of this and it will eventually become clear (I hope). My main motivation for writing Shinji is to show that Goten has weaknesses and he has to come to grips with those realities before he can ever feel whole enough to finally approach Trunks, and vice versa. Anyway, hate it or love it, please let me know in a review. I really appreciate all of the feedback that I receive._


	12. Chapter 12

_Disclaimer: Dragonball Z and its characters are the property of Toriyama, Akira and I make no profit through writing this work of fiction. _

_Chapter 12_

_June…_

A soft moan and a warm hand touching the bare skin of my chest…

Semi-wet lips softly caressing my face and neck….

The tickle of breath against my throat, sending a shock of desire to my groin…

I know in a few minutes Shinji will be stripped out of his own clothing, and a few minutes after that we'll be in my bedroom doing what we've been doing on a regular basis for the last two months. Never mind that every time I sleep with him, I think of Trunks. Never mind that every time I let him touch me, I feel another layer guilt added to the others that have built over my lifetime for not living up to other's expectations, and for trying to convince myself that I'm only human and Kami will understand.

Yet…

I push down my swirling guilt and let him kiss me, touch me, and arouse me as I lean my back against my kitchen counter, forgetting the half prepared meal we'd started to make ten minutes earlier.

All it had taken was one smoldering look from his deep violet eyes. I wonder why, in all the years that I've been alive, I'm so easily tricked into participating in sexual acts with this particular person. I sometimes think he's put a spell on me, even though I know that such a thought is ridiculous. I'm just trying to find an excuse when the truth is, I like being in control, and having sex with Shinji lets me be in the driver's seat for once in my life.

"Goten, let's…." he whispers low in my ear before licking the shell of it with his slick tongue. I shiver at the contact, knowing exactly what he wants and where he wants to go. Grasping his forearms with my hands, I pull his body even closer to mine. I want to kiss him before dragging him to my room, but that plan is suddenly interrupted with a sharp bang as the door suddenly bursts open. I only have a moment to push Shinji away in order to face whoever suddenly decided to burst into my apartment unannounced and uninvited.

Feeling my adrenaline surge, I let my body start to accumulate _ki_ energy before I realize who it is that's standing in my doorway, their eyes gaping.

"Go…Goten…"

Fuck.

Giving Shinji a helpless glance, I watch as he shrugs slightly before coming over to give me a kiss on the cheek and a quick whisper in my ear.

"Give me a call later."

With that, he bows slightly to my uninvited guest before stepping around them to leave.

Letting out a breath of both sexual and emotional frustration, I run my fingers through my hair before confronting Gohan, who has a shocked look on his face mixed with the beginning signs of anger.

"Wha…what the hell was that? Or maybe the question should be, who the hell was that?" he asks, his eyes wide and his brows drown together as he tries to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

Dropping my hands to my side, I let my built up _ki _dissipate as I try to will away the painful and obvious arousal in my pants. Realizing that thinking about it isn't going to make it go away, I glance in Gohan's direction and his shocked face before giving him an explanation of sorts.

"What do you think it was? You've got Videl and you're an adult, so figure it out. And next time when you know I'm home, at least ring the doorbell. I can't guarantee we'll both have our clothes on if you ever try to burst in again."

With that said, I turn inside my kitchen and decide to fry the hamburgers Shinji and I were going to make before things became heated and well before Gohan decided to pop in unexpectedly. I can see that he's even angrier with my explanation, his eyebrows scrunched together and his mouth set in an angry slash, but what does he expect? I might be his kid brother, but I'm not some greenhorn, either.

I suppose in his defense, I haven't told any of my family about Shinji. In fact, I haven't even told them I'm gay because…I don't want to feel rejected or have to deal with the angry and insulting comments I know I would get from my mother and god knows who else. Still…the reasons run even deeper than that. If my acquaintances would know about Shinji, then it would also show them how deep Trunks and my separation has become, and even I have continued to cling to the hope that someday, things will be fixed between the two of us. Someday…

However, I can tell that Gohan won't let what he saw go until gets a good and thorough explanation, whether or not I'm in the mood to give him one. I throw a beef patty into the frying pan and listen to it sizzle while at the same time, I tune into Gohan as he closes the front door and makes his way inside my small kitchen.

"That's all you've got to say about that, Goten? Look…I know what I saw, but with another man? What are you _thinking_? Do you know how dangerous that is? How long has this been going on? And what would Trunks do if he knew you were…were slobbering over some other guy's face?"

Turning the stove off, I pivot around and glare at Gohan.

"Are you seriously disgusted, Gohan? Does it freak you out that your little brother is gay? Well, get used to it because I am and that isn't going to change, whether or not Trunks is in the picture. And give me a little credit in the brains department. I know the risks, and I know my partner. There's nothing for you to be worried about, except, I suppose, that your brother's a fag."

I cross my arms and give him a defiant look, as if daring him to condemn me for my apparent perversion. I half expect him to scoff or go off on some sort of self-righteous speech. What I don't really expect is for him to close the distance between us, pull back his fist and…

_Crunch…_

His fist connects squarely with my jaw with enough force that my head snaps to the side, and my upper torso smashes on top of my kitchen counter. My head narrowly misses crashing against the upper cupboard doors. I can see stars swimming across by vision, and I blink hazily, having not been prepared for the blow. I don't have time to react before Gohan grabs my shirtfront and pulls me up and off of the countertop, so that we are face to face. And then, he pulls me into a bone-crushing hug.

I squirm uncomfortably against him, confused by his apparent change in behavior. I think he senses my tension, so he lets me go. Backing away uncertainly, I rub my sore jaw and rest my hip against the counter.

"What the hell was that for?" I ask warily.

"Don't get me wrong," he states. "I am still angry with you. Okay, so you're gay. I've half suspected that for a while, but it's your business and if you weren't ready to confront the family about your…your preferences, well, that's your decision to make. However, I guess when you start seeing somebody without even mentioning the fact, _that_ infuriates me. What the hell are you afraid of? What about the feelings of the other person involved? Don't you think that other person feels uncomfortable over the fact that you don't have the guts to tell your family about your relationship? If I was him, I'd want to clobber you."

I stiffen slightly, ready to defend myself against Gohan's accusations, but I don't get the chance. I watch as he takes a deep breath, pushes his glasses up against the bridge of his nose, and then crosses his arms before continuing.

"And then there's the whole issue about Trunks."

I can feel the adrenaline pump through my veins at the mention of my old friend's name. Narrowing my eyes, I interrupt because I'm afraid of what he might say and I want to defend myself. Holding my hand up between us, I shove away from the counter and move around Gohan.

"Just wait a second. Shinji has nothing to do with Trunks," I state emphatically, wincing as the lie easily slides off my tongue. In actual truth, Shinji and Trunks have become intertwined in my mind, one the replacement for the other.

"Oh, so he's got a name, huh? Shinji? Just where exactly did you meet him? He seems…interesting."

I blush slightly at Gohan's inference in regards to Shinji. Interesting is only a word that scratches the surface to his psyche, one that I'm still trying to figure out. I decide to tell him a half-truth about how and where we met, the true story being too weird for Gohan to really understand or approve of.

"We met at West City University. Shinji works there in admissions. I ran into him a couple of times in the student union when I was studying for my classes after work and we sort of struck up a friendship. That's all."

"_Just_ friendship?" Gohan asks skeptically. I can feel a blush start to creep up my cheeks, feeling like a child caught sticking their hand in the proverbial cookie jar. Obviously, what I share with Shinji is more than friendship, but as to _what_ exactly it is, I'm too uncomfortable to delve deeper and I really don't want Gohan prying into my private matters. In order to move the conversation ahead, I nod my head and then turn back to my hamburger patties, which are half-cooked and bleeding inside the pan. Turning the stove back on, I continue frying the patties so they won't be ruined.

After about fifteen minutes and fifteen cooked hamburgers, I grab the buns, sliced onions, dill pickle slices, ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise, and cheese out of the fridge and spread them across the counter. Taking my cue, I watch as Gohan grabs a plate and starts fixing himself three hamburgers. We both walk around the counter and take our plates to my futon, balancing them on our knees as we eat in silence, each of us thinking of how to proceed. As soon as Gohan polishes off his last hamburger, I watch out of the corner of my eye as he wipes away the crumbs from his mouth and clears his throat, clearly getting ready to speak.

"Goten…jeez, I don't know what to say."

"Then don't say anything."

He glances at me quickly and then focuses his dark eyes on his wristwatch. I can tell he's thinking and I know that Gohan isn't the type of person to let a puzzle like my relationship with Shinji and how it relates to Trunks go. His Adam's apple bobs slightly as he swallows slowly.

"I still love you, you know. I guess I don't understand completely why you decided to be involved with this Shinji guy, and I don't know if I approve or not, but that's not what really matters. Like I said, I always wondered if you preferred men to women. It wasn't because you didn't date many. I mean, I only dated Videl and we got married right out of high school. But with you, you were always with Trunks. From the time you were a baby all the way until now. You've never been apart from each other, and I always thought that the reason you never kept a steady girlfriend or that he never kept one was because it was too much competition. It just seemed like a possibility, you know. That you two would end up having a relationship beyond just friendship."

I can tell he's uncomfortable telling me his thoughts, his hand coming up to randomly pick at the front of his shirt, his face slightly pink tinged. Yet, he presses on.

"I'm not saying I liked the idea of my brother together with his best friend, but I remember Dad making a comment after that battle with Buu was over with. It had to do with the whole fusion thing. He said being with Vegeta in that way was more intimate than anything he had ever felt with Mom. It worried me a bit, because I could just imagine Vegeta deciding to kick Dad's head in for convincing him to share bodies."

"But then he said he thought in hindsight, knowing what he did from his own experience with Vegeta, if it had been such a wise idea to teach you and Trunks the other form of fusion, regardless of the fact that it wasn't meant to be permanent. You already shared a close bond, but he worried that by fusing, you two would prematurely form an attachment that might cause problems later on in life while you were developing into separate identities. As an adult, he had trouble separating his thoughts from Vegeta's after they were separated in Buu's body and he wondered if your constant fusions with Trunks would also have a similar effect. But then when you got into middle school, the two of you stopped fusing and it kind of left his mind as an item of concern. You know Dad. He has a one track mind sometimes. However, it never really left my mind and I wondered. So is that what's causing this?"

He wants an explanation, and I can't really give him one because I never thought of the attraction I feel for Trunks having started from fusion. It always seemed natural, the way I felt for him, and I had never labeled it as anything more than familial affection until a little before the previous summer, when most of our relationship problems really started to surface in a more visible light. So, I shake my head in the negative and try to piece my thoughts on the matter together, especially how Shinji fits into the equation.

"I don't think it has anything to do with fusion. I know what Dad was talking about, and I can't deny that when Trunks and I used to fuse, there was a terrible emptiness when we were forced to separate. However, we quit fusing around the time we hit puberty because those feelings became too intense and neither one of us understood what that meant at the time. I can see where a correlation can be made, but I've always had strong feelings for Trunks, as far back as I can remember, even before we learned the fusion dance."

I shrug a little at the old memories of Trunks and I joined together as the mischievous trouble maker known as Gotenks. Shaking of the odd feeling of reminiscence, I glance over to Gohan in order to finish my explanation of sorts.

"You know about our last fight. Well, I wasn't completely truthful with you about that…"

I start to tell him more information, but he puts a hand up to stop me.

"Look, Goten, I didn't come over here to in order to beg for information about what caused your falling out with Trunks, or even to find out about this Shinji guy. I just came over to spend time with you. What happened between you and Trunks is old history, and you don't have to feel like you owe me an explanation for anything. Aww, this is just so messed up!" he suddenly exclaims, running his hands through his hair before standing up to clear away our dirty dishes and put the fixings away for the hamburgers, before flopping back down on the futon.

"So you came out to Trunks, and he rejected you?"

I raise my eyebrows at Gohan, clearly seeing that his curiosity has gotten the better of him, regardless of his professed statements as to not wanting to pry into the past.

"I thought you said you didn't come over to rehash the past?"

He gives me a sheepish look before shrugging his shoulders and adjusting his glasses.

"Well, I guess that cat's out of the bag, and I can't help but wonder. But if you don't want to tell me, I get it. I'm sure it's kind of uncomfortable for you to have been seen kissing another guy by your own brother, and then to have the same brother basically pry into your personal life."

I sigh. In a way, I do feel like I owe Gohan a lot more than an explanation, because he saw me at my lowest point after Trunks and I had that horrible argument, and he's been helping me fight my depression without even realizing what it was that he was doing. And, it's been like a weight keeping all of these thoughts and ideas about Trunks and Shinji inside of me without being able to tell anyone, for fear of being cast aside. It's a relief to have my sexuality out in the open with the one person besides Trunks who I feel the closest to. Coming to a quick decision, I shift slightly on my futon and steeple my hands across my lap.

"It's not exactly what you think, about why Trunks and I had our falling out. How can I say this, exactly? I don't want to paint Trunks in a bad light. I…love him. Even after not having seen or heard from him in months, I still feel that way for him. I don't think it will ever go away. But there were problems festering between us for months, or maybe even years, and when it all came to a head, it just sort of exploded."

Not really sure how to phrase things, and knowing the telling of the story could take a while, I stand up and head into the kitchen, pulling out a couple of the beers Shinji had brought over for our impromptu summer cook out at my place. Rounding the other side of the futon, I hand one to Gohan, who grunts in surprise.

"Beer? When did you start drinking dark lager? I thought you hated the stuff."

"Shinji brought it over. I still don't really like it, but it's all I have. So suck it up."

He chuckles at that, and then opens the bottle with practiced ease before taking a swallow and murmuring in appreciation for what is probably an expensive import.

Pacing slightly in front of him, I also open my beer and take a sip, grimacing at the strong, sour taste. Putting down my bottle on the coffee table, I cross my arms and look over at Gohan, who's reading the label on the back of the beer bottle. I clear my throat, and continue where I left off with my story.

"Like I said, I've always felt close to Trunks, as far back as I can remember. We spent a lot of time together growing up, up until the last couple of years. I've known for a long time that things were becoming strained between the two of us. Maybe our problems do stem from that fusion technique, but mostly, I think we were both trying to find ourselves separate identities while trying to hang onto what we once had. And instead finding some meaningful way of talking about our problems, we both went about it the wrong way."

"I've always been the follower, the faithful sidekick to whatever Trunks had planned for us. And then one day, it was like it just changed. I didn't want to be the follower, but how do you fix something that's been that way for years? I didn't even realize how much I resented Trunks always making the decisions about what we should do, where we should go, and where I should work and live, until I started breaking away from him by taking that job at Nezumi's Auto Emporium and moving into this flat. I could have easily gotten a job at Capsule and found a nicer place, but then that would have made it look like I was entirely dependent on him, and I didn't want that."

I sigh, and Gohan nods his head in understanding. Uncrossing my arms, I walk back over to my futon and sit down on the edge, tapping my fingers across my knees in an unsteady tattoo.

"Anyway, I don't know if any of this is making much sense. I didn't even really realize how much I resented Trunks's interference until after he cut off his ties with me. I was always too much of a pacifist in our relationship to have ever have told him clearly how I felt about things, and I put up with a lot of abuse from his mouth just because I was so desperate to have his approval and understanding, even though it was like he couldn't understand why I would _want_ to be any different from him. So instead of really telling him about how I felt, I just let it go and sort of fester inside."

"And then there was Trunks himself…"

Trying to think of how to put my friend into perspective without painting an overly negative picture, I'm surprised when Gohan puts a hand on my arm and clears his throat.

"He's got issues."

It's not a question, which unnerves me a little, and for the first time, I really wonder how much my brother knows about the life my friend was leading up until the point when things fell apart between us. I give him a questioning look, and he releases my arm and lets out a short breath before continuing.

"I think I once told you that Trunks has always been a loose cannon as far as being our department head of Research and Development. Well, I should say, nominally the head, since Bulma's the real one who runs the show. At any rate, just working under him gives one the distinct impression that things haven't been right with Trunks for a long time. As it is, I myself haven't seen him since early October, and that occasion isn't something I really enjoy reminiscing about."

I stare at him. This is all news to me, especially about having not seen him since October. I had known for a while that Trunks resented his work at Capsule Corporation, but I had never known him to miss work for over half a year. That in and of itself suddenly made my throat dry out and my stomach drop.

"W…wait a minute," I blurt out as I hold my hand up. "You haven't seen Trunks at work since _October_?"

He nods his head slowly.

"That's right. And the last day I saw him, he wasn't…well, he wasn't right. How should I say this, I think Trunks had or has a drug problem. It wasn't uncommon for him to go without missing work for days at a time, and when he'd come in, half of the time, especially within the last couple of years, there were always tell tale symptoms of either having a hangover or going through some sort of withdrawal. Bulma would often pull him to the side, and I think she must have talked to him about cleaning up his act, and for a while, he'd straighten out, but then it would happen again. Towards October, it was happening almost every other time he would come to work, which would probably be once every few days. When you think about how much alcohol he must have been consuming to cause a problem, especially with his Saiyan blood, that's kind of a scary thought."

I raise my eyebrows at my brother. Scary thought? I often saw Trunks drunk and I knew that he had an alcohol problem for a long time, but I never realized that it affected his work the way it had, nor did I have any clue that he was a possible drug abuser, although it probably wouldn't have been hard for me to find signs of it had I been looking for evidence. However, the truly scary thought was that my brother hadn't seen him in eight months and he didn't seem concerned.

I had just assumed Trunks had continued on with his life the way he had been doing for years, and since my brother had never really mentioned much about Trunks except for that brief conversation we had had back in December, I had never given it much thought. Now, I felt terrible, like it was somehow my lack of concern that had made Trunks disappear from the world like that. It also brought back my last meeting with Bulma at the French restaurant and her overriding concern as to my well being. If something terrible had happened to Trunks, no wonder she would have been worried about me. But then, why hadn't anyone told me what had happened to him, if indeed something _had_ happened to him? That in and of itself feels like a slap to my face.

Grabbing Gohan's arm, I suddenly shake him and shout in his surprised face.

"Don't you think there is a serious problem if you haven't seen your boss in eight _months?_ And why the fuck didn't you tell me, huh? What if he's…he's dead or something? What if…"

And with that, I let go and collapse against the back of my futon, my thoughts swirling in my head.

"Goten…I didn't want to worry you. You were so depressed after that fight you got into with him, and I didn't want to burden you with that. Besides, if he was dead, you'd have known immediately. Nobody could have hidden that from you, especially since you can sense his _ki_. If you look for it, I'm sure you can sense it. It hasn't been strong for a while, but it's there. At any rate, even though he hasn't been physically at work, he's been sending in reports and managing the data accounts much more regularly than he ever did when would come to work. So obviously, he's alive and well."

I shake my head and then voice the apparent.

"Bulma could be doing that and make it look like Trunks's work. How hard would that be? If it's a liability for Capsule Corporation to have a person like Trunks as a department head, it would be simple for her to take him out of the picture and make out his reports."

Gohan chuckles at my assumption and then puts his beer down, before responding to my concern.

"Goten, you don't work for Capsule Corporation, so you don't know the internal workings of the company. Sure, Bulma could be making up his reports and managing the data accounts, but in order to do so, she would have to have access to Trunks's personal computer server and database. The only way an employee can have access to such personal material is through a retina scan and fingerprint log. In order to access your personal data server, as a way to minimize the threat of secrets being lost from the company, you can only access your personal database by doing so. If you have a device that allows you to have access to your server from a different location other than corporate headquarters, you can access your server even if you don't physically come to work."

The thought of always having to have your eyeball scanned and have your fingerprints read is mind boggling. Taking stalk of that, I work out what Gohan is trying to tell me.

"So basically, what you are saying is that in order for Bulma to be accessing Trunks's account, she would have to have his eyeball and a piece of his finger."

"Precisely. So that's another reason for you not to worry. Trunks is indeed alive and kicking, and if I should add anything to make you feel better, his reports have become quite detailed and in-depth, and he's also been coming up with some new prototypes for improving the efficiency of capsulation."

I roll my eyes at Gohan's obvious enthusiasm over Trunks apparently brilliant ideas to further the wealth of Capsule Corporation. However, this information doesn't point out one glaring inconsistency.

"Where is he?" I ask.

Gohan shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head in the negative.

"I have no idea. I'm friends with Bulma and her family, but it's never been my place to ask about Trunks like that. She came to our department in early November and apologized to us for Trunks's erratic behavior and told us that he had taken a leave of absence from the company, but that we would start receiving reports and instructions from him in December. And just as she said, his reports, research directives, and data logs started coming in. Even though he's not at work, he's always online during the work day, so it's easy to chat with him about what he wants to happen within the department. But, like I said, it's not my place to ask him where is in an impersonal place like work."

I sigh, and then scratch my head.

"This is my fault."

Gohan grunts in surprise before smacking me in the back of the head. I glare at him, but he gives me a warning look before starting in on me.

"Don't even go down that road, Goten. You have no idea what drove Trunks to drink and experiment with drugs, if indeed he was doing those things. Maybe he used those things as a relief from a job he wasn't really that fond of, or as a means to escape a life he had been given but didn't want. Whatever his reasons, they were _his_ reasons. Maybe that fight you had escalated the problem, but what I was trying to tell you before is that there has been a problem for a long time, well before you had that falling out."

I shake my head and interject.

"Sure, but you don't get it, Gohan. He liked me…as more than a friend, and I rejected him because I didn't want to be just another number on his list of interesting lays. I wanted him to like me for _me_, but with Trunks, it was always so hard to know what he was really thinking. He didn't take my rejection well, and now nobody knows where he is, or what he's doing. How could I not see this as being my fault?"

Gohan rolls his eyes at this, and then runs his fingers through his thick hair before standing up.

"No wonder the two of you had issues. You're both bent on making yourselves out to be miserable, just in different ways. Stop being the scapegoat, Goten and put the blame where it belongs. It does _not_ all belong squarely on your shoulders. I could see why you would have been hesitant to enter into a relationship with Trunks, especially seeing from your point of view what probably seemed like a very licentious lifestyle. And had Trunks been looking at things through a rational set of eyes, he would have seen the very same thing, but instead he chose to use what you perceive as your rejection of him as a way to let his drinking and drug abuse go to the next level."

"Being in a relationship with somebody is difficult, especially when things change between people on a personal level. Do you think it has been easy for Videl and me all the years we have been married? I'm not the easiest person to live with, and neither is Videl. We make it work because we _want_ it to work. There have been times when it would have been easy to just walk out the door and start over with someone new, and I'm sure Videl has felt the same way. However, when we took our wedding vows, we made it a point to not give in when things got rough."

I try to interrupt him, to tell him that things were never that way with Trunks and I, but he sternly shakes his head before continuing on.

"So you aren't married to Trunks. But you _love_ him Goten. If you truly love somebody, you don't give up on them. You don't enter into a relationship with somebody else as a means of escape when you feel like you've hit rock bottom with that person. You do anything you can to fix the problems you have, and if, in the end, you've done all you can, then you let that person go if that's the best decision."

I stare at him. His patronizing tone aggravates me, but his words strike true to what has been inside my heart for a long time. Still, how can you fix something when the other person doesn't want to change? I voice that concern, and am surprised with Gohan's insight into the problem.

"Help them change. Did it ever occur to you that maybe Trunks wanted to change his behavior, but was too scared or unsure how to go about doing so? Maybe he felt like you wouldn't really understand his reasons for starting to drink in the first place. You are right that you can only do so much, but did you ever sit down and talk to Trunks about his drinking problem?"

I answer immediately.

"Of course I did, but it went in one ear and out the other. To make it worse, he told me that towards the end, before our fight, he was drinking as a means to escape his apparent attraction towards me. How do you fix that? There were so many problems, Gohan, that I didn't even know where to start, and telling Trunks about them was almost impossible because he would just get angry with me and tell me to stop looking down at him. As if I ever could."

I spit out the last sentence in frustration, only seeing how hopeless our situation had become before our split.

"Well, I can see how that would have been difficult, and I suppose this whole attraction thing between the two of you just made it worse."

I glare at him, feeling attacked even though I know such a thought is irrational.

"You don't have to say that like the thought of us being attracted to each other is a disgusting thing."

"Come off it, Goten. I never said that. It's strange, I will admit, but like I said, I wondered about it in the past, so it's not that surprising. The surprising fact is how bad things got between the two of you, and nobody really ever put two and two together. So in that respect, I'm sorry. Not that anything I could have done would have helped."

I sigh. Looking back, our relationship did seem doomed to this sort of failure, especially when we both started looking for something that wasn't obviously apparent to the both of us.

"So, what should I do?"

Gohan cocks his eyebrow at me and crosses his arms. I know what his answer will be.

"I can't tell you what to do. You need to do what feels right in your heart. That's always a good starting point."

I nod my head, already having a plan of action formulating in my head.

"I'll go and see Bulma. I'll go and talk to her."

Immediately, Gohan claps me on the shoulder, obviously approving of my idea, even though the thought of confronting her scares me slightly.

"That's a great idea. Like I said, _I_ can't talk to her because I work for her, but you don't have that same restriction. Talk to her, and I'm sure things will start to work out in the right direction."

"What about Shinji?" I ask, suddenly uncertain, feeling a certain sense of guilt and responsibility in regards to our relationship. His response is also what I would expect coming from Gohan.

"I can't tell you what to do about him. You're not the type of person to get into a relationship as a means of revenge or as a way to assuage your own feelings of inadequacy, so I know you must care deeply for him to be in such a relationship. But obviously, it's not what one would call healthy, since you've been too ashamed to even mention him to the family in any sort of context. Again, follow your heart. I wouldn't end things with him, because your main concern now is finding out what has happened to Trunks. But once you come to that crossroads, if you ever do, it will be a hard decision. I don't envy you, Goten, in that respect. However, I know that you will do the right thing."

I shake my head in understanding. I know it won't be easy, but for the first time in months, I feel that things will finally become resolved between Trunks and me.

We both stand up from the futon and make our way to the doorway.

"What are you up to for the rest of the day?" I ask Gohan, out of curiosity.

"Not much. I'm taking Pan and Videl to a West City Chargers baseball game. You're welcome to join, if you want to. The game starts at 7:00 pm. You could even bring Shinji, if you want. I won't tell Videl. He can come as your friend."

I smile at his offer, conscious that while Gohan is being understanding, I don't think he approves deep down inside about my sexual preference. But then again, how could I blame him? It took me a really long time to even figure out that I liked other guys, and his introduction into my relationship with Shinji wasn't exactly a smooth one. On top of that, I know he doesn't approve because he can sense what I've felt since the beginning; that Shinji is _not_ Trunks and I haven't been completely fair and honest towards him about my past. Yet, I do have feelings for him, which makes it all even more complicated.

I pause for a moment, gathering my whirlwind of thoughts around me.

"Thanks for the invitation, but I'm going to say no. It's not because I'm too embarrassed to bring Shinji along, but I've got…I'm going to visit Bulma today."

I think that shocks Gohan, because he pauses his hand on my doorknob and sucks in a hissing breath through his teeth.

"Really? I didn't think you would be brave enough to do it this fast. You have no idea what she will say to you."

I know that, but what's the point of waiting for me to be brave enough, when I haven't heard anything about Trunks for months and then suddenly find out he's all but disappeared from society? Her reaction towards me won't change regardless if I visit her today or a month from today. I tell Gohan as much, and he purses his lips in agreement.

"Well, good luck, then. I'm sure everything will work out fine, Goten. Bulma will be happy to see you, and all this anxiety you've had over Trunks will finally resolve itself one way or the other. You're doing the right thing."

With that, he says his good-bye and then heads out to an old beater car he's had for years. I know he'll drive it out of the city before encapsulating it and then flying out to Mount Pazou.

Watching him drive down the street, I pull my cell phone out of my pocket and quickly call Shinji, telling him something came up and that we'd have to move our plans for today to tomorrow, or another day later in the week. I can tell he's disappointed, but he's quick to reassure me that he understands. With that done, I lock up my apartment and head out down my brownstone steps out onto the empty street. Making sure nobody is around, I jump into the air and then head towards Capsule Corporation, feeling my heart beating a million miles per second. I don't know what will happen when I get there, but at least I can finally find some peace and resolution to the remnants of the relationship I once had with Trunks.

_Please accept my apology for the lengthiness since my last update. Life sometimes has a way of interrupting the best made plans for writing fan based fiction. I never intended to put this story on the shelf, but I have found it difficult to find the time to sit down and write. Updates will probably continue to be sporadic, but I will finish this work._


	13. Chapter 13

_Disclaimer: Dragonball Z and its characters are the property of Toriyama, Akira. I make no profit in writing this story._

_Chapter 13_

I touch down lightly outside the gate of Capsule Corporation about a minute after leaving my apartment. I can sense my own nervousness swirl in the pit of my stomach, and I start having second thoughts about following through on my plan of action. Steeling my resolve, I walk over to the security gate and tell the guard who I am. After about a minute of waiting, the gate creaks open, and I step through, aware for the first time that it's been months since I've seen the inside of this place, and yet, it hasn't changed a bit. However, outward appearances can always be deceiving, and I know that if what Gohan had said was true about Trunks, things within are not the same way they were before I last saw him.

Walking through the garden I used to play in all the time as a child, I step onto the front walk that leads to the family dwellings within the massive complex that has become Capsule Corporation. The old Gravity Room is still sitting in the same spot it has been in since as far back as I can remember, although I know it hasn't been in use for years, Bulma having installed a similar and more high tech facility within her home for Vegeta. Clenching my fists in resolution, I stop in front of the door and slowly raise my hand to ring the doorbell.

I wait a few minutes, and decide to leave when I don't get a response. However, as soon as I turn on my heel, I can hear a clatter on the other side of the door and somebody swear as they trip over something. A few seconds later, the door creaks open, and a brilliant blue eye stares at me through the crack.

"Go…Goten?"

The door suddenly swings wide open, revealing Bra wearing what appears to be a hastily pulled on t-shirt and shorts, her socks slumping half-way down her skinny legs, and her hair pushed up into a messy bun. It's apparent that she just woke up, even though it's well past two in the afternoon. However, her appearance doesn't seem to bother her in the least as she quickly jumps through the doorway and throws her arms around me, her obviously apparent bosoms squeezing uncomfortably against my chest.

"Goten, it really is you!" She squeezes her arms around me as though she's afraid I'll just up and disappear, before finally letting go. Brushing a stray lock of turquoise hair out of her face, she awkwardly stands in front of me with her knees locked together, and her left hand clutching the top of her right arm.

"Umm…oh, gosh! What am I doing?" she laughs nervously, which makes me feel even more uncomfortable. It's been a while since I've seen Bra, but I never remember her acting so skittish or ditzy before around me.

"It's just it's been a while since you've been around. We all were kind of wondering what happened to you, if Trunks…" She lets her sentence trail off, a kind of far of light coming to her eyes as she mentions his name.

I smile slightly at her, before asking an obvious question.

"Can I come in, Bra?"

"Oh, yeah, sure! Yeah, come in! I can't believe I haven't invited you in yet. I'm kind of an idiot when I just wake up."

I just stare at her before shaking my head, following her inside the threshold of the home I spent most of my youth growing up inside. She takes me down the main hallway and into a sitting room off to the left. I can tell right away that it hasn't been used in a while, a thin coat of dust covering the end tables and the pictures littered across the walls. It makes me wonder…wonder about Bra's nervousness and the fact that it seems like nobody has been to Capsule Corporation in a long time. What has happened to them and what…what has happened to Trunks?

Bra motions for me to sit on one of the sofas before she heads towards the doorway.

"Um, I'm going to change clothes Goten, and then I'll be back. Do you want something to drink or eat? I can get one of the bots to bring you something."

She looks so desperate to please me, and that only puts me more on edge. It's like she's walking on eggshells, and I'm part of the reason why.

"Honestly, Bra, you don't have to do that. I just ate some hamburgers with Gohan a little while ago, so I'm okay."

She just nods her head at that, and then hurries out of the room. I can hear her run up the stairs to her room. Sitting back against the soft cushions of the sofa, I wonder where Bulma and Vegeta are, if I have wasted my trip in coming here unannounced.

Waiting for Bra to return, I glance around the room, noticing all of the family pictures. I immediately pick one out taken when I was about eight years old.

Trunks had invited me to go camping with his family. In retrospect, the trip was a disaster. Bulma had forced Vegeta to come along, and the two of them had spent the entire time arguing about the food, the campsite, the tent, and anything else under the sun they could think of. However, Trunks and I had been oblivious to all of that. Vegeta took us out a couple of times for what he called survival training, which was basically his idea of helping us to hone in our _ki _detecting abilities by stealthily launching shielded_ ki_ blasts at us from secret locations. Bulma had been furious when she found out, after Vegeta hauled in an injured Trunks, who ended up getting a burn on his arm from not reacting quickly enough to one of Vegeta's blasts. Vegeta only had said it was Trunks's fault for being too slow, and then stalked off to meditate. Trunks spent the rest of the vacation crowing about his battle scar, and the two of us spent hours roaming the woods, pretending to be Saiyan superheroes on a mission to save the Earth.

The picture had been taken the last day of the trip. Bulma's smile looks strained, Vegeta has his arms crossed and his usual glower stamped across his features, and then there is Trunks and me. We look…so carefree, as though nothing but the two of us and the fun we had on that trip mattered. Trunks is grinning broadly and holding up his bandaged arm proudly, his other arm hooked firmly around my shoulders. My hair is sticking up in all sorts of crazy directions, and I'm holding up a string of fish that I caught with Vegeta's help. I can feel a lump forming in my throat. Why did it have to end up being so fucked up between the two of us? What happened to the two grinning idiots in that picture?

I'm suddenly interrupted from my depressed thoughts when I hear a throat clear in the doorway. Jumping up slightly in surprise, I grin sheepishly at Bra as she walks into the room carrying a tray with some sandwiches and what appears to be iced tea.

"Sorry, you looked so serious, Goten. I…um, brought us something to eat. I haven't had breakfast yet."

Putting down the tray, she looks slightly abashed as she grabs three sandwiches and pours both of us tall glasses of tea. I can tell she spent a bit of time on her appearance, her hair sleekly put up into a ponytail, a pair of formfitting skinny jeans on her legs, a loose plaid tunic covering her torso, and bangles that clack noisily on her wrists as she pushes the tea towards me.

Taking a sip of the sweet tea, I settle back against the couch and try to think of something to say to her.

"Uh, do you usually sleep this late on Saturdays?" I know it's kind of a lame question, but it's the only thing I can think of that rests in neutral territory. I watch as a flush creeps across her milky cheeks. Putting her sandwich down, she wipes the crumbs from her lips off with the back of her hand.

"Not usually. I went to a party at my friend's home last night. We stayed up late watching some stupid movies and talking about boys. I didn't get home until about four this morning."

I raise my eyebrows at that. I was always surprised by how much leeway Bulma and Vegeta had always given their children, especially in comparison to how strict my own mother had been growing up. Still, Bra's only fifteen or sixteen years old, and considering the habits Trunks developed, I find it a little worrisome that they are even allowing Bra to go to parties at her friends' homes without having set any sort of curfew. I can tell she detects my line of thinking, because she suddenly wraps her arms around her stomach, as if protecting herself from something painful before giving me a shamefaced look and a stammered explanation, not at all like what I would expect from the usually self-assured and bossy girl I remember from not that long ago.

"It's not what you think, Goten. Mom and Dad are pretty protective as of late about where I spend my time and who I hang out with. They're just my friends, and we didn't drink or do anything stupid. Honestly, if Dad didn't think it was one hundred percent safe for me to go over, I wouldn't have been allowed. He's been a real beast lately."

I can hear an undercurrent of resentment, a definite sign that the Bra I'm used is still under the surface of the one sitting in front of me.

"It's okay, Bra. You don't have to go into the details. I was just curious is all," I say, trying to reassure her. She nods her head, and then relaxes, picking up another sandwich and devouring it in three bites.

"Are Bulma and Vegeta around?" I ask suddenly, deciding not to beat around the bush any longer. Even though I know Bra is happy to see me, her discomfort is making me nervous, and I can tell she'd rather be doing something else instead of staying with me in one of the family sitting rooms.

"Uh, Dad's in the Gravity Room, and I don't think he wants to be disturbed. Mom is…she went out, but she should be back in about fifteen minutes or so. You want to talk to them?"

I nod my head, and she sighs slightly.

"They're not too much fun to talk to lately. Dad spends a lot more time than usual in the Gravity Room and Mom's been really busy with Capsule Corporation."

It isn't lost on me that she's completely omitted Trunks from her description, and that bothers me a lot. Again, I wonder, what on earth happened to him that even his own sister avoids mentioning him to me?

"Are you kind of lonely?" I ask.

She flashes me a smile, but I can see brittleness behind it, as if she's trying hard for my benefit to appear happier than she really is.

"No way! Why would I be lonely? I'm pretty popular at school and have tons of friends. Why should I care if my Dad's beating himself up in the Gravity Room everyday and if my Mom wants to spend all her time at work and with…"

Her voice trails off abruptly, and I watch as she clenches her fists on top of her lap.

"Oh, gosh Goten, don't get the wrong idea, okay? We're all fine here and everything's okay. When Mom gets here, she can explain things better than I ever can."

I blink at her in surprise. Get the wrong idea? Just listening to her strange statements and her clues as to the behavior of the rest of her family is enough to give me a headache. She quickly stands up and grabs the tray of unfinished sandwiches, making sure to leave the pitcher of tea and my glass.

"Look, Mom will be here soon. I've got some stuff I have to do, so I'm going to leave you, okay?"

Taken aback by her sudden desire to leave me alone, I stare at her as though she's grown two heads. Pausing at the doorway, she gives me an embarrassed, yet understanding look.

"The thing is, Goten, I'm just muddling this all up. It's really nice seeing you, though. Mom will be glad to see you."

With that strange statement, she spins on her high heeled shoe and darts out into the hallway and away from me. Scratching the back of my head, I try to put her strange behavior into context but find it eluding me. Slouching down into the cushions, I debate on whether or not I should stay and wait, or if I should salvage the rest of my afternoon with Shinji and come back to Capsule Corporation after making sure Bulma and Vegeta are available.

In the end, my desire to find out the truth about Trunks wins. Pouring myself another glass of tea, I sit back and wait for what seems an eternity, eventually falling off into a light doze. I'm abruptly brought back to reality when I hear the front door open and close and a purse and keys being thrown haphazardly on top of one of the tables fronting the entryway.

There is the click of high heeled shoes resonating against the tiled floor in the hallway, and then a short breath before Bulma suddenly yells loudly for Bra.

"Bra? Are you awake yet?"

When Bra doesn't answer, I can hear Bulma mutter something under her breath as she starts down the hallway. She suddenly walks past the doorway of the sitting room, her hair bobbing around her face, her skirt swishing around her thighs. Not wanting to miss her, I clear my throat, letting her know that she isn't alone in the downstairs area. She suddenly stops and backs up a few steps, peering into the sitting room before putting her hand to her chest and letting out a deep breath of surprise.

"Goten? You scared me half to death! What are you doing sitting there all alone?"

Stepping into the room, she snaps on a few lights and then notices the half-empty pitcher of tea and my glass.

"Well, I guess my daughter is up and about, seeing as she must have seen to giving you some refreshments. Where did she go? She's taken to hiding out in strange places and I don't know what to do about her."

I bite my lip slightly before responding, surprised the stress and worry etched across Bulma's usually unflappable exterior. She looks…older than I remember from the last time I saw her at the restaurant. It is eerie how different everything seems.

"Um, she said she had things to do and left me a few minutes ago."

Bulma laughs in a slightly strained way, before flopping herself down on top of the couch Bra had recently occupied.

"That girl always has things to do. Well, who am I to discourage her? I screwed up enough with my son. As long as she's staying out of trouble, there's not much I can do."

Suddenly, her eyes are latched onto mine, and before I can stop it, she leans over the coffee table dividing us and grabs my chin with her hand, staring deeply at my face before letting go. Unnerved by such an uncharacteristic act by Bulma, I pull away and try to break her stare. It's like she…knows things about me, which is unnerving and unsettling. I could understand that with Vegeta, but Bulma…the whole situation here is giving me the creeps.

"You're doing well?" She suddenly laughs nervously at her own questions before answering herself. "Well, of course you are. You look really good, Goten. School must be agreeing with you. How's your job at The Boys and Girls Club?"

Sighing, I give her an answer. "It's good. Busy, but good."

She nods in understanding and then bites at her lip. Deciding I can't stand waiting any longer, I stop with the polite and nondescript conversation.

"Bulma, I came here to ask you about Trunks."

She nods her head slowly, and then covers her knees with her hands.

"Did Bra tell you anything?"

I'm surprised and slightly taken aback that she would ask such a question, but I nod my head slowly in the negative. I can tell that my response puts her at ease, which only makes me more aware of how uncomfortable this is becoming.

"Good. You see, I wanted to be the one to explain, if you ever decided to come for some answers about Trunks. I don't know really what things were like for you with my son before this all happened. I'm not even really sure you knew what kinds of problems Trunks was having."

She leaves her statement hanging, and I feel compelled to answer, but the truth is embarrassing for me to bring up, yet I know I have to do it.

"Trunks liked to drink and party."

"Goten, you don't have to sugar coat what you know about my son. He didn't just like to drink and party. He liked to get hammered and high, and it happened a lot. I feel like such an idiot, sometimes. Vegeta was always of the opinion that letting Trunks experiment with stupid stuff was the way to teach him lessons about what was good for you and what wasn't. I never really agreed with that philosophy, but it's hard to fight with Vegeta over things like that, so I just gave into it. I never really thought that any of that would have lasting consequences, but I guess I was wrong."

I nod my head stupidly, waiting for her to continue.

"Trunks was good at hiding his addictions for a very long time, but within the last couple of years, for whatever reason, he just gave up doing that. He'd come to work hung over or high, and it was embarrassing to watch. I tried to take it in stride. I told him he'd lose his job if he didn't start putting his act together, and for a while, he'd stop acting like that. But eventually, he'd fall back into the same habit, and it started to happen much more regularly."

"I experimented with stuff when I was a kid, and Vegeta didn't exactly have the easiest past, but I never wanted my children to suffer. And what ends up happening, but Trunks becomes the worst of what Vegeta and I used to be like. Trunks had…has his demons and a lot of resentment that neither Vegeta nor I ever saw coming from him. I still don't know exactly what drove him to such destructive behavior, but it all came to a head in October."

I watch as Bulma pulls herself upright, as a way to appear more confident than she really feels in revealing such private and personal information about her son to me. She brushes off her skirt a few times before giving me a wan smile.

"I know you and Trunks had a fight sometime in September. He didn't come to work for three weeks, and when he did show up at the beginning of October, he was in such a foul mood, he terrified the people who worked for him, and tried to start a fist fight with Gohan. I don't know what happened between the two of you, but it was a catalyst of sorts that spun Trunks out of control. He basically disappeared, for all intents and purposes, and when he didn't show up for work within the next two days, I had Vegeta search the city for him. He was masking his _ki_, but it was apparently very erratic. He'd holed himself up in some awful hotel, and if Vegeta hadn't found him, I think…I know he would have died. It was…terrible, Goten."

I was shocked. Trunks…almost died, and I hadn't even noticed?

"What happened…is he okay?"

She looks up and smiles at me, but I can tell that just as with Bra, it's not really a true smile but one that is meant to reassure me.

"Trunks is…well, he was in the hospital for a while. In truth, he's lucky there was no permanent damage done to his body. I am sure, had he not been half Saiyan, he would have extensive liver and brain damage. At any rate, I think being stuck in a hospital and going through delirium tremens and drug withdrawal gave him a reality check about exactly the direction his life was headed in."

I watch as she suddenly picks at some imaginary lint on her shirt, before she frowns and sighs.

Warily, I ask her if he's still in the hospital. She smiles again, but it doesn't reach her eyes.

"No, he's been out of the hospital for six months. He decided to…he's in a rehabilitation facility."

"Really?" I ask, relief warring with sadness in my voice.

"Yes, really. It had nothing to do with Vegeta or me. He came to that decision all on his own. It's been…difficult. Trunks always was quite the fodder for tabloids, but we've been very good about keeping this aspect of his life a secret, for many reasons. He's doing…well, but this road to recovery has not been easy for him."

Unexpectedly, Bulma turns her face from me and puts her hand against her cheek. I watch as her chest shudders, and I realize that she's crying. Taken aback, I swallow uncomfortably. Bulma, as far back as I can remember, was always strong and in command. I can never remember a time when I had ever seen her break down in front of anybody. This behavior coming from her is distressing.

"Oh…Goten, it's been so hard. Keeping it a…a secret. Watching him try to tear out his IV's and find drugs to fill up his stressed body. Having Vegeta have to manhandle his own son. Those…that first month was the worst. He's not like that anymore, but he's so unhappy and I can't stand seeing my son suffer. A mother shouldn't…shouldn't have to see that happen to her own child. And the worst part of it is that it's because of my lack of understanding or vigilance that he ended up that way."

Not really knowing what to do, I suddenly stand up and walk over to her. Grabbing her by the shoulders, I give her a hug. She cries for a few more minutes and then pulls away. Wiping her face with her hand, she laughs uneasily when some of her perfect mascara runs.

"Oh, God…I'm so embarrassed, Goten. I can't believe I started crying in front of you. What you must think of me…" She trails off as she tries to wipe away the errant mascara.

"Bulma, I understand how you feel. And I feel like it's partly my fault about what happened to Trunks."

She pulls back away from, a look of concern on her face. Taking my hand in hers, she looks at me intently.

"Goten, you did nothing to lead Trunks to his problems. If anyone is to blame, it's the fact that Vegeta and I did nothing when we knew he was starting to become a regular user of alcohol and drugs. Vegeta said he'd eventually learn not to mess with the stuff, but that only happened after he almost killed himself. Besides that, I guess neither one of us were very understanding of the demons driving Trunks to his self-destructive behavior. He grew up with everything, yet I never realized until he was almost taken from me how much I think his being given everything was part of the whole problem. I don't really know. He doesn't talk to me about it, and since he's been in rehab, he asked to get back to work as the head of his department. I wasn't really sure about allowing it, but I think he's trying to prove that he's turned over a new leaf. I just wish he was…happy. He's not happy, not at all."

I nod my head in understanding.

"Neither one of us has been really happy in a long time."

She looks at me, slight confusion warring across her face.

"You've been unhappy, Goten? Well, I guess I would be if my friend suddenly disappeared from my life, but I had thought you and Trunks had come to some understanding, and that's why I never heard from you for all these months, except for that meeting at that French restaurant. I guess that hasn't been the case, has it? For what it's worth, I'm sorry for whatever pain my son caused you."

I blush slightly, putting my hand up to stop her from continuing.

"Look, Bulma, it was a two way street between Trunks and me. We somehow forgot to communicate our problems and thoughts to each other over the years, and this is the end result of that. He caused me pain, but I know I also gave him the same feeling, whether that was my intent or not. But…I want to start over. I miss him, and I haven't felt like myself since I last saw him, but I've tried to go on with my life, just like I figured he was doing with his."

Letting out a sigh, Bulma stands up suddenly and walks to a desk in the corner of the room. Taking a pen and a piece of paper, she sits back down and starts writing.

"Go and see him, Goten. I think…no, I know he would really appreciate it. He doesn't talk about you, but I know he thinks about you often. I see him every day, you see. I think he half expects you to turn up and chew him out about something, although that has never been your personality. I think he's disappointed every time it's me who opens the door to his room."

Tearing the piece of paper of the pad, she hands it to me and waits expectantly.

It's an address. Honeywell is the name of the place, about as indistinct as you can get. She's left me with a room number. Trunks's room. I feel a deep gratitude towards Bulma. Leaning forward, I give her a quick hug.

"Can I…can I see him today?" I ask hesitantly.

"Of course you can. I'll have to call and tell them to let you in. So far, only immediate family has been allowed to visit, but I can make an exception for you. Do you have an ID on you?"

I tell her yes, and with that, she pulls her cell phone out of her pocket and dials a number. I hear her talk to somebody at the reception desk, telling them to expect a Son, Goten as visitor for Trunks. Within a couple of minutes, she flips the phone shut and lays it on top of the coffee table.

"I'm so happy you came over, Goten. I really am. It's been strange without seeing much of you, and I had hoped you weren't avoiding us because of Trunks. You kind of grew up here, and it's bothered me more than you can know this distance you've put between us. The only thing I ask of you is that you keep this a secret about Trunks. Like I said, nobody wants it being canvassed around that he's been in drug rehab until he's successfully recovered."

With that, we both stand up and head towards the doorway. Once we get there, Bulma leans up and kisses me on the cheek. I blush at such a motherly gesture coming from her, but I let it go and wave goodbye as I step outside. She stands at the door for a moment, before closing it behind her and coming outside with me.

"Don't be a stranger, Goten, no matter what happens between you and Trunks. You are always welcome here. I mean it. Even Vegeta's missed having you around."

I nod my head again and wave, before taking off into the sky. The address points out that wherever Honeywell is, it's well outside of the city. Thankfully, the day is a beautiful one, and it only takes me a few minutes to leave West City behind. When I'm about a half an hour outside of the city, I sense out for Trunks's _ki_ and find it weakly shimmering against the backdrop of the countryside. Using that more than the address Bulma scribbled out for me, I bank to the left and in a few minutes, I find myself soaring over a building that looks like it was once some sort of resort. It's an old plantation house with a long, tree-lined drive, two tennis courts, a swimming pool, and a lake. Figuring this must be the place, I land at the edge of the driveway and walk towards the house.

As soon as I reach the doorway, a rush of butterflies start to rip through my stomach. This day has been an unusual one, and there are so many questions that I want answers to, but mostly, I just want to make sure my friend is okay. I want to start over and patch up the pieces, and I hope he feels the same way. As for the rest, I'll figure it out as it comes along.

Squashing my nervousness away, I pull open the door and walk towards the reception desk, taking my ID card out of my pants pocket. The place doesn't look like a rehabilitation center, and had Bulma not told me that it was, I would have never known. It feels homey, warm, and comfortable, and I'm relieved that my friend hasn't been languishing in some dumpy hospital like setting.

Standing next to the walnut desk, the receptionist looks up at me.

"Can I help you?" she asks.

"Yeah. I'm here to see Trunks Briefs in room 306. My name is Son, Goten, and I believe Bulma Briefs called to confirm that I was coming."

She asks for my ID, which I hand over to her. Nodding in a satisfactory manner, she hands it back and has me sign into the guest register before telling me that while I am allowed to visit, Trunks is not allowed to leave through the front door or go out onto the grounds without notifying an attendant first. Letting her know that I understand, she offers to show me to his room. I follow her to an elevator. She hits the third floor button, and a few seconds later, the elevator dings and the doors open. Stepping outside of the elevator, we walk down to the end of the hallway, where there is a corner room.

"Here you are, Mr. Son. Just knock on the door. His chart says he should be at home."

I tell her thank you and watch as she walks back to the elevator and steps inside. Pushing up my courage, I knock briskly on the door and wait before I hear a strong voice tell me it's okay to come inside. Hoping I haven't made a mistake, I turn the doorknob and pull the door open.

The room is larger than my apartment. There is a sitting room, a kitchen, a balcony that I can see peaking out behind some bay doors, and what looks to be a bedroom off to the side. And sitting at a desk, typing on a computer is Trunks, wearing a pair of sweatpants, a faded Capsule Corporation t-shirt, and a pair of glasses. He has his bare feet on his chair, tucked up underneath his bottom. For all intents and purposes, he looks like an undergraduate student lounging around on a Saturday working on a paper or something. He does _not_ look like how I imagined, and I feel a great sense of relief.

He doesn't look up from what he's typing, but motions with a free hand for me to come in and sit down. Feeling out of my element, I close the door and walk towards him.

"I didn't think you were going to come back today, Mom. I thought you wanted to make sure Bra got up and did something around the house. I'm just finishing up those specs you requested for that new capsule model I've been working on. You can take a look at them in a second."

I'm a little surprised that he doesn't know it's me, but then, why would he? I haven't seen him for over eight months and the only people who have been allowed to visit him up until know have been Bulma, Vegeta, Bra, and his grandparents. Clearing my throat, I decide to set him straight and find out exactly what his reaction will be to me. Our last conversation we had before we disappeared from each other's lives replays uncomfortably through my head, and I wonder once again if I have made a mistake by coming here. Putting those ideas to the side, I push forward and tell him who I am.

"Uh, sorry to disappoint you, but it's Goten, not your mom."

Clasping my hands behind my back nervously, I watch as my words sink in. His back stiffens visibly, and his fingers still on his computer keyboard. Slowly, he swivels his chair around until his bright, blue eyes are staring at me with a very unreadable look.

"Goten…how…what are you doing here?"

Knowing what I say will matter in this initial visit, I pull my hands out from behind my back and tell him the truth.

"I've…been thinking a lot about you, so I finally went and talked to your mom. I had no idea you were here, Trunks. I tried to call you, you know. I didn't forget about you. So, here I am."

He blinks twice before unwrapping his legs.

"I know you called, idiot. I just didn't have anything to say to you at the time, so I turned my phone off. And I specifically _asked_ for certain people not to tell you where I was. But, I guess my ideas or opinions don't seem to mean much anymore."

I don't know what to make of his comments, and inside, I feel crushed. I had hoped against my better judgment that this meeting would be going better. Trying not to let my disappointment show, I smile at him quickly and scratch the back of my head.

"Well, if that's how you feel, I'll leave. I'm really glad you are okay."

I start to walk back towards to door, but his voice stops me.

"I'm not okay, Goten. I haven't been okay for a very long time. And just because I asked my mother not to tell you where I've been, it doesn't mean that I'm not happy to see you. I am, Goten. So please, don't walk back out that door. I just…hell, who wants their friend to see what ending up on the bottom of a shit heap looks like? I have my…pride. And when it's all said and done, I'm surprised you'd even go this far to try and make an attempt to find me. You're better off without me."

Turning around, I stare at him in surprise, and suddenly I find my voice. I'm glad he doesn't really want me to leave, but the last comment about being better off without him hurts more than it should. It hurts because in all the years I have known Trunks, I've never once heard him talk about himself in a negative way, and I see exactly what Bulma meant when she said he wasn't happy.

"Just wait one second, Trunks. Who are you to decide if I am better off without you? Don't you think that it's in my power to figure that out? Sure, things were pretty shitty between us, but I…that has never meant I wanted you out of my life. I know I said things that made you angry, but even after that, and even after all the times you've done things to hurt me, in the end, I can't really see myself away from you. I've done the best I could for the last eight months, but you're never out of my mind. So, for once in your life, just shut up and let me decide what is right for me, especially in regards to you, without deciding to take action into your own hands."

I don't mean to yell at him, but I can hear the last sentence echo throughout his rooms. Biting my tongue, I wait for his reaction. It isn't long in coming, but it surprises me.

"You're right, Goten. Who am I to make decisions like that for you, especially considering how I can't even make them for myself? I'm sorry. The thing is, I'm trying to protect you from me. I've had a lot of months to think about a lot of things, and the conclusion I've come to is that I let my own confusion and frustration ruin what we had. You fucking pissed me off, Goten, and I'm ashamed to even admit that, because there was no reason for me to be angry in the first place. And what did I do? I drowned my sorrows in a bottle and tried to make it seem like I was better than you, but who ended up being the winner? You…you've always been strong. You could never see that in yourself, but you always have been, and that in and of itself made me want to rip you off your god dammed pedestal."

He laughs bitterly, and then looks me in the eye.

"But who's the one who lost the most? I don't know when you became such an obsession with me, Chibi. You used to follow me. You used to do everything with me. And when that started to change, I tried to force you back on that path because I didn't know what else to do. I'm a lot like my father. I looked down on you. I thought I was better than you. But that isn't true, and it took almost killing myself to realize it. I wish…I wish I had never done that to you, Chibi. So if you want me back in your life, I guess I don't really understand it, but I would like that."

I slowly nod my head, and we both let out a sigh simultaneously. Not knowing what else to do, I start to talk.

"So…."

Trunks laughs, and this time, I can tell it is genuine.

"Well, welcome to my temporary home. I'd offer you a beer, but unfortunately, I'm not allowed to drink the stuff anymore. So is water okay?"

He stands up from his chair and pads over to the small kitchen, pulling open the fridge and tossing me a bottle of water. He then motions for me to sit down on the sofa before he plops himself back at his desk. I'm at a loss as to how to bridge the conversation, and I get the feeling that Trunks is, too. We sit like this for a while, drinking our water without saying anything before he finally speaks up.

"I'm glad you came, Chibi. I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too."

We smile shyly at each other, and it's as if that horrible period of the past has been temporarily put to the side for the moment. I know that we will have to talk about it eventually, and I will have to figure out where my feelings for Trunks and my feelings for Shinji belong, but until then, this is a welcome reprieve. I'm glad that my friend is doing well, considering what he must have went through. And I'm happy that there is a possibility our friendship can heal.

The one thing that I know for certain is that I don't want to lose him ever again. I hope he feels the same way about me.


	14. Chapter 14

_Disclaimer: Dragonball Z and its characters are property of Toriyama, Akira. I make no profit in writing this story._

_Chapter 14_

_A few weeks later…_

I hadn't realized the full effect of my finding Trunks until a week after I'd gone to Honeywell the first time. I had run into Bulma at the grocery store, of all places. She said that Trunks seemed to have more life in him than she'd seen in months and months, and I could see her misplaced gratitude glowing inside her bright, blue eyes. I tried to tell her that any improvement in Trunks attitude had nothing to do with me, but she wouldn't hear of it. Instead, she encouraged me to visit him as much as I had the time for, which ended up translating into my spending Friday nights and Saturdays with him for the last couple of weeks. I guess, in a way, Bulma was right. Trunks definitely seemed happier on the outside, and I also felt happier, but I also wondered how much had really changed between us. Not wanting to drag up the past, I ignored those thoughts and concentrated on the feeling of trying to mend the tattered remains of our relationship.

This is why I find myself once again at Honeywell. The two of us are sitting outside on one of the many docks littering the lake shore that borders the south side of the rehabilitation center's property. Most patients aren't allowed to come out to the lake unless they have shown great strides in fighting and learning to control their addictions. Trunks, apparently has done both of those things, and compared to the glimpses of some of the other patients, he seems relatively recovered. It only makes me wonder why he's so content to stay here, and I worry about his motivation. It's not like Trunks to be so passive, but I don't want to pry inside his personal reasons.

As it stands, he's got his laptop out and he's typing something up. In all the years I've known him, I've never once seen him be so diligent about his work. It's just like Bulma said, as though Trunks is trying to show everyone he's turned over a new leaf. And yet…his motivations remain a mystery to me, just like his overly passive attitude.

I watch as the breeze ripples through his short, fine locks and as he brushes a stray fly away from his head. He takes in a deep breath, and I can see his muscles ripple underneath his thin, cotton t-shirt. I try to push away my errant thoughts of my attraction towards him, but seeing him like this makes it difficult. The truth is, as much as I like looking at Trunks, being with Shinji makes it wrong for me to be thinking things like that. I keep telling myself such things, but my brain and body just don't seem to agree.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, I unfold my legs from underneath me and stick my bare feet into the cool water of the lake, watching as a few carp and pike move towards the safety of the underside of the dock.

"Goten, if you're bored, you can go home."

He doesn't even look up from his computer screen, and for some reason that irritates me.

"I'm not bored. I just got here a half an hour ago. Do you want me to leave?" I ask him, suddenly unsure. Even though I know Trunks is glad to have me back in his life, he's still as unreadable as ever. I watch as he looks up from his computer screen and stares at the water before turning around to face me.

"No…I don't want you to leave, but I'm not much for company. So, I'm sorry."

I don't know why, but his apology sets my teeth on edge. It's like he's overdoing the apologies to make up for the mistakes he made before he ended up in this place. I can understand why he would want to do that, but I can't help but wonder why he doesn't understand that I'd forgiven him the moment I walked through his door and saw him again. Gritting my teeth together, I snap out a reply, trying to temper the tone of my voice.

"What do you have to be sorry about? Stop apologizing. There isn't any need. I want to be here. End…of…story. Okay?"

I watch as his eyes flash, and even though I know I shouldn't, I feel glad that he's responding to my simplistic and sarcastic reply in an angry manner. So far, in the last few weeks since I've started to see him, a new picture has started to emerge about his behavior, and I'm not really sure I like it because it just isn't…Trunks.

"I can fucking apologize to you if I want, got that? So just…shut the fuck up."

"Well, at least you're getting some of your backbone back. I don't get it, Trunks, but you've never been the one to see fit about apologizing or acting in such a sissy manner. That was always my forte."

His head snaps back, and he looks a little bit embarrassed and mollified by way of my explanation.

"You think I've been acting like a sissy?"

I can hear a growl of aggravation in the back of his throat, which is much more like the Trunks I'm accustomed to from the past. Nodding my head, I wait for his reaction. Deep down inside, I want him to try to punch me for insulting his manliness, even though I know that kind of reaction isn't healthy. But it's something the old Trunks would have done. Instead, he throws me a clincher by letting out a loud peal of laughter.

"Ha, me, a sissy? You've gotten pretty brave to tell me something like that. But honestly, you really think that?"

I nod my head again.

"Yeah, Trunks, I think sometimes you do act like a sissy, and I don't get it. You were never like that before. I mean, sure, I don't mind the fact that you actually apologize for stuff now, and that you seem to be more careful about the things you say around me, but it's like you're taking it to the extreme level. It's like you're…you're afraid that if you say something offensive or rude, I'll just up and disappear again. Well, you'd really have to do something nasty for that to happen, so stop being so afraid of scaring me off. It's kind of…well, it's kind of creepy in a way 'cause it's just not _you_."

He just stares for a moment before he closes his laptop and pushes it towards the middle of the dock. I watch as he rolls up his pants legs and pulls off his sandals. A few seconds later, he scoots over next to me so that our hips are almost touching, and shoves his bare feet inside the water.

We sit that way for a while, watching the fish move underneath our feet before I hear him clear his throat.

"Well, Chibi, did it occur to you that I'm _really_ trying not to offend you because I _am _afraid that you'll leave me?"

I turn and look at him questioningly, but he doesn't look up to meet my gaze. Instead, he keeps his eyes on his feet still in the water, as though he's trying to piece together what to stay next. I want to reassure him, but I know it isn't my place, and it mollifies me a bit that he's so concerned about how his behavior affects me, but yet…it worries me as well.

"Like I said, I've had months to think about a lot of things, and mostly, the one thing I kept coming back to was how I was such a _terrible_ friend to you for such a long time, and how you never once stopped me from treating you that way. I'm trying to make it up to you, to let you see that I can…I can change myself, better myself. It took me hitting rock bottom to figure that out, but that is…it's the truth, Chibi. I don't want you to keep thinking that you can't tell me when I cross the line with you. I'm not going to blow up at you, or ignore you, because when I think of some of the things you told me, you were right and I was…I was _so_ fucking wrong, it's unbelievable."

I flush slightly, wondering if he's making a reference to the last conversation over the telephone we had before he ended it with me, or to any of the other numerous fights we had before everything fell apart. I don't really want to bring that conversation up because I don't feel as though the timing is right for either one of us, so I just shake my head in understanding before peering back at my feet.

I don't know how long we sit in companionable silence before Trunks clears his throat. Looking towards him, I can see him peering at me carefully.

"Do you ever wonder how all of this started between us? I mean, why we fell apart like we did?"

I shrug uncomfortably, not really wanting to voice my particular thoughts on that subject.

"Does it really matter, Trunks?"

I'm surprised when he grabs my hand, and earnestly peers into my eyes.

"What do you mean, does it matter? It _does_ matter, Goten. It matters a lot. If you…if _we_ plan on fixing up the mess we got ourselves into, then we need to figure out how it all went wrong to begin with."

I stare at him, really looking at him for the first time, and I can see this strength I didn't realize he had until this moment. And yet…I don't think I'm ready for what he wants, because it would mean the both of us would have to go back inside the past and drudge up a lot of things that I have safely locked away in the back of mind.

Trying to pull away from his grip, I feel frustration well up inside when he doesn't release me, and instead keeps me trapped and looking inside his intense gaze.

"Look, Trunks…I think your concern is genuine, but do you _really_ want to bring all that awful stuff back up again? I, for one, would rather forget about it."

He cocks an eyebrow at my statement, and continues to stare, making me start to feel really uncomfortable, and a horrible suspicion begins to flit through my mind that he's up to playing one of his games with me, that for some reason, the malicious side to his personality has reasserted itself. And yet, he surprises me once again.

"I don't want to think about it anymore than you do, believe me. But how can you ever trust me if we don't talk about that stuff? I know you, Chibi. I know that deep down inside, you blame yourself for almost every fight we've ever had, or that you were somehow responsible for the problems I've had and the way I went about solving them. For such a long time, I was content to let you feel that way because it was easier for me that way, instead of confronting the fact that a lot of the problems we had came from me. I've never been good at taking responsibility for my actions, but once you find yourself given a second chance at life, it starts to have an appeal to it."

With that said, he lets go of my hand and turns back to the lake. I know he's waiting for me to answer him, but I'm at a loss for words. This Trunks…so like and yet so _unlike_ the one I grew up with is almost becoming too much for me to understand. He is afraid to leave the rehabilitation place, that much I am sure about, but he is willing to confront demons that even I don't want to disturb. It's like he is trying to suddenly grow up in such a short frame of time, and that kind of scares me. It is true that I do not want him to be the way he was before he came to Honeywell, but at the same time, it's hard for me to wrap my mind around his change in attitude.

"Trunks, can't this wait…for a little while, at any rate?"

He lifts his face and peers at me stoically, and shakes his head.

"No, Chibi, I really don't think that it can."

"What…what do you want from me?" I ask, trying to clarify a lot of the swirling thoughts in my head.

He looks at me sadly, and then sighs, taking his feet out of the water and wrapping his arms around his knees.

"I don't know. I want us to be friends, Chibi. Friends the way we used to be, but even that isn't good enough, because I still wasn't good to you."

"Well, if it's any consolation, I was content letting you be the leader when we were kids. Whatever you perceive as being bad to me, I never saw that side of you. I was probably too naïve and stupid to realize something like that."

I can tell my statement isn't good enough for him, especially when he lets go of one of his legs and shoves it back into the water, scaring the fish and causing a large splash.

"Of course you couldn't see it. And of course, you are content to put the blame on yourself for being naïve. Why, Goten? Why do you always do that? I'm not asking you to cover for my own mistakes any longer. Why can't you let me take the blame for things, just this once, instead of trying to make everything look rosier than it really is or was?"

I don't have an answer for him, because I guess I never saw myself doing that. And yet, how many people have told me that the things I perceive as being my fault really aren't? Shinji, Gohan, and even Bulma have told me much the same thing. Hearing it from Trunks, though, really makes it hit home how much I probably _do _do that because I don't want to cause pain towards the people I care about. If that means taking the blame for something not of my making, then I'll do that.

"Fine, Trunks. If you want to take the blame for whatever bad things you did to me when I was kid, go ahead. But that was so long ago, I don't know what relevance it has to the situation we are in now."

He lets out a frustrated sigh, and then leans back on his hands.

"That's not what I mean, Goten. Fuck, I just can't explain it. Maybe it's because I've suddenly found my conscious, I don't know. I just want to make things right."

I give him a sympathetic look and sidle up closer to him so that our hip bones are touching.

"Do you know what I think, Trunks?"

He glances at me and shakes his head.

"I think you're trying too hard. We've got plenty of time to sort out who did what wrong in the past. I definitely think that you are right, that it is important to talk about those things. But just…let's just relax and enjoy being together with each other again, without the stress of those problems from the past."

He grunts out a noncommittal sound before kicking his legs out at the water.

"Maybe you're right," he finally responds.

Trying to change the subject, I decide to find out when he's planning on leaving Honeywell.

"So, when do you plan on leaving this place, Trunks?"

I watch as he shrugs his shoulders.

"Come on; don't tell me you really like it here."

He glances up at me in surprise and then turns away before answering.

"It doesn't matter if I like it here or not. It's not really that bad."

I scoff at his reply and give him my opinion on his situation.

"It's like being in a prison, Trunks. You have to wear a wrist band monitor. You can't go outside without permission, and no matter that your rooms are really nice, you can hear people screaming almost every single hour of the day. How can you stand it?"

I'm surprised when he starts to laugh, and then turns his eyes on me, once again catching mine in his hard, icy, blue gaze.

"Yeah, Goten, it _is_ like a prison, but it's safe. I don't know that if I got out of this place, I would be able to handle myself around alcohol. You have no idea, _no _idea what it's like to be an alcoholic. I crave it, Goten. I crave it every single fucking day. When I first came here, _I_ was one of those screaming patients. I can't even remember being in the hospital, really, but apparently, my own father had to hold me down to the bed when I went through alcohol withdrawal. He had to hold me down because the beds weren't strong enough to keep me in that place and away from the bottle. There are some days where it takes every ounce of my will power not to simply blast a hole through my wall and escape, and make a hit at a bar. Here, I'm accountable for my actions, but who's going to help me be accountable when I leave? And please don't say that you would, because I don't want you being responsible for me anymore."

And there it is, out in the open; his apparently real fear of going back to his bad habits. It saddens me that he has such a lack of confidence in his own strength of willpower, when it's clear to me that he does have it. Like he said, he could blast out of here at anytime, and nobody would stop him. Even here, at the docks, he could simply jump into the air and take off, but he is making the conscious choice not to.

I turn away from him and sigh. "I guess I can't really understand what you've gone through and what you are going through, but you've always had a strong will. When you want to leave this place, you'll be able to do it. I know you will."

"Thanks for that vote of confidence. I'll keep it in mind."

"But honestly, you can't stay here forever," I suddenly blurt out. "If you're that concerned, move back in with your parents."

Again, he laughs, but this time, I can tell it's in amusement and not in sarcasm.

"Are you fucking crazy? Sure, I could do that, but I moved out of there for a very important reason."

I laugh too, and punch him in the arm playfully.

"Yeah, so you could have sex without Vegeta popping in to grab you for early morning training sessions."

He quirks an eyebrow at me, and sighs.

"I can't believe you remember that. I was what, twenty-two years old? That was like six years ago. At any rate, sure, I don't want Dad bursting in when I'm having sex. I mean, who would? But in all fairness, the reason I wouldn't live there would be because I value my privacy, and I don't want to be hanging around my teenage sister and her obnoxious friends. I can only imagine that she's probably told them how her brother is a poor, drunk bastard, and then they'll probably all moon around my room, trying to get me to take them out on a date. Forget that shit."

I bob my head in understanding. I had feared having to move back in with my parents when I started graduate school, so I could see Trunks, who has always valued his independence, finding it hard to stomach the thought of having to move back in with his parents, even temporarily. That kind of thing would require him to swallow a lot of pride, and it's probably easier to stay here, regardless of how limited his independence is.

Taking in a deep breath, I settle back against him and watch as the sun starts to sink towards the western horizon of the lake. We sit there like that for a while, when I suddenly feel my cell phone vibrating against my leg. Trunks feels it too, and moves over a little bit so that I can extract it from my pants pocket.

Checking the caller ID, I get a sinking, guilty feeling in the pit of my stomach when I see that it's Shinji. I had forgotten to tell him I was going to be out of town tonight, and we were supposed to meet up and go see a movie. Not wanting Trunks to overhear my conversation, but understanding that wherever I go, he'd probably clue in with his sensitive Saiyan hearing, I stand up and rub the bridge of my nose before answering.

"Hello?"

"Goten?"

"Yeah, it's me. Where are you?"

"At your apartment, but you apparently aren't home." I can hear frustration in his voice, and I feel annoyed and guilty at the same time.

"Um, well, that's because I'm not at home and I forgot to tell you that I couldn't make it tonight."

There is silence at the other end of the phone, and then his voice comes back on. It's calm and collected, but I can easily sense that he's upset with me.

"Okay. That's fine, Goten. I understand if things crop up on you at the last minute, but this is starting to get a little on the ridiculous side. On top of that, I have the distinct feeling you are hiding something from me. If you don't want to go out with me, then don't make plans in advance and cancel without letting me know. That's not a very _nice_ thing to do."

I rub my head in frustration, upset that he's angry with me, and also irrationally irritated that he's talking to me like I'm some sort of stupid kid.

"Shinji, I know that it wasn't nice of me to do that. I said I was sorry. What else do you want me to do?"

"You could be honest with me. You knew that you wouldn't be able to meet up with me tonight, so don't tell me you conveniently forgot. You've been doing this a lot, switching plans around and then not showing up half the time you say you're going to meet me. Look, I'm not your keeper. But it hurts when you do that. I let it slide the last two times it happened, but it isn't fair for you to act like this and expect me not to be upset. I hope whatever you're doing, you're enjoying yourself. I'll talk to you later."

With that, I hear the click on the other end of the receiver as he hangs up on me. Groaning aloud, I click my cell phone shut and shove it back in my pants pocket. I know I'll have to make it up to him somehow, but that doesn't make me feel any better about my situation. I guess in a way, I have been avoiding him because it's been easier to concentrate on Trunks without having to worry about what Shinji's thinking or what he's been up to. And yet, Shinji is right and it's not fair for me to do that to him. Scratching my head, I sit down next to Trunks, but it doesn't go unnoticed to me that he's suddenly very intent on looking at the opposite shoreline of the lake. I know he overheard my whole conversation, and he isn't stupid, so I wait until he pieces two and two together and decides to question me about it. Fortunately, I don't have long to wait.

"So, who was that? Seems you've made some new acquaintances since I've been out of the picture."

I stare at him, trying to read into his deliberately flat voice. Internally, I can feel myself seethe in frustration over the whole situation. Part of me wants to deny any sort of relationship with Shinji, but that would be lying to my friend. The other part of me is angry over the fact that Trunks thinks I shouldn't have tried to move on with my life after he disappeared.

Pushing away those thoughts, I fiddle with my pants legs before formulating my answer.

"Shinji. He's a friend of mine."

Trunks nods his head and then turns to look me seriously in the eye.

"I get the feeling he thinks you're a little bit more than friends, Goten."

I flush at his statement and try to ignore it, but when Trunks wants an answer to something, he isn't one to let my avoidance stand in the way.

"Come on, Goten. What's the matter? Cat got your tongue or something? It's a simple thing to tell the truth. What should it matter what I think about it? I've been out of the picture for eight months. Fuck, I know if you had done a disappearing act on me, I would have found myself a bunch of new friends."

I really look at him, and then swallow uncomfortably. What should it matter what he thinks? That's an understatement if I've ever heard one. On top of that, knowing he would have found friends if I would have left the picture doesn't make me feel any better. He always had an easy time finding friends and people to sleep with, even when we were friends. That was never the case with me, so I wonder how much of him will feel a betrayal of sorts, especially when he finds out the extent of my relationship with Shinji, when I wouldn't do the same for him when he asked it of me.

"Shinji's my…he's my friend." I swear inwardly at how lame I sound, repeating myself, not even being able to tell my best friend the truth.

"You mean Shinji's your boyfriend, Goten. There _is_ a difference between the two."

I turn away from him and can feel a flush start to creep up and color my cheek bones.

"It's not what you think."

"Oh, really? Then what are you so embarrassed about? At any rate, I heard the whole conversation. It doesn't take a genius to piece things together. It's obvious that guy thinks the two of you are in a relationship. Besides, the fact that you haven't told him about me or where you've been spending your time instead of being with him shows me that you're still in denial about the state of said relationship."

I don't say anything to refute his statements, and he takes that in stride.

"Why are you ashamed? Do you think I'll like you less because you found somebody? That's…that would be petty of me."

I glance over at him, incredulous over his apparent acceptance of this development in our relationship. The old Trunks would have probably tried to punch me and tell me what an idiot I was by trying to move on with my personal life after our stupid fight. Or he'd have been insanely jealous. And yet, Trunks seems to act like it's no big deal, and I don't know where that leaves me feeling. Is he saying this because he wants me to feel good, or is he saying it because all those things that happened before he separated himself from me had only been empty words?

"So, what exactly are you saying?" I ask him.

"What does it look like I'm saying, idiot? It's good you found somebody. You always spent too much time alone."

I still don't get it, and I don't think he's being one hundred percent honest with me. But then, again, I'm not being one hundred percent honest with him, either.

"And it doesn't bother you, even just a little bit? Even if I told you've I've slept with him on more than a few occasions?"

I don't really know why I tell Trunks this information, but I guess it's because in a twisted way, I want to find out without outright asking him if that stuff he had said to me in September had been nothing but his way of manipulating me.

I'm slightly pleased, in a sadistic sort of way, when I finally get a reaction out of him.

"What do you want me to say? That you shouldn't be in a relationship with somebody? That you shouldn't have sex once in a while? Do you want me to tell you that I'm jealous? That I'm angry because you decided to let some other guy touch your virgin ass? I'm trying to be the better person here, Goten. I don't think it's fair for you to shove that at me and make me look like an ass."

Just like that, I feel terrible for goading him into saying anything. And yet, I'm not sorry. He made me feel like that for months, and while I know it is petty of me, I want him to feel some of my own pain. However, I know it isn't right of me to feel or act that way towards him, especially since it's more than evident he's been trying pull his act together.

Letting out a breath, I apologize.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought that up. But…it's just…aw, forget it."

This time, he surprises me when he leans towards me and grabs my face with his hand so we are looking eye to eye.

"Stop, Goten. If you've got something to say, just spit it out. I'm tired of you always chickening out. Be the man for once and just get it over with."

Swallowing, I push away from his grip and he relents.

"Those things you said to me, did you really mean it? I mean, did you really feel that _way_ about me? And if you did, I don't understand why you're so passive about this sort of revelation."

He sits there quietly for a moment, stirring up the water with his feet, before answering.

"Goten, I was pretty fucked up at the time. But yeah, I had feelings for you for a…for a very long time. Probably longer than you'd care to know. I thought I was sick in the head, to find myself having fantasies about my best friend. So I hid behind sleeping with girls. It was easier then admitting I had some sort of problem. It was out of desperation that I finally told you, but it didn't make it any easier to have you reject me to my face. At the time, nobody had ever had the guts to tell me no to something I wanted. But you were right in what you said to me. It wouldn't have been right. It would have, in all probability, made things worse had you caved into my desire."

"As for you and this guy…I don't have to like it, Goten, but there isn't anything I can do about it. You have a life separate from me. I can still be friends with you, regardless. At any rate, you're a grown man capable of making your own decisions. I'm not going to stand in the way of your happiness. But at the same time, you need to clear the air with him. You can't have it both ways, Goten. I tried that, and it didn't work. So go back to him, apologize, and don't sneak around to see me. We're friends, and that's all there is to it."

It shames me how much I have underestimated Trunks. I watch as he stands up and collects his laptop, and suddenly, his hand is reaching out to help me stand up. We collect our sandals and head back to the house. I walk him up to his room, and he invites me inside.

"I won't keep you, Goten. I'm tired, and you've got to get back to the city. You should see if you can salvage your date."

I blush over his frank assessment in regards to Shinji. He is right, I should try to salvage my date, but I still feel at odds about the whole situation. Who is Shinji to me? He was and is my replacement for Trunks, but he isn't Trunks. In all honesty, I want Trunks to tell me to dump Shinji and try to start over with him. Instead, he's telling me to pursue Shinji and only look towards him for friendship, even after he has reaffirmed his attraction for me. It's all infuriatingly complicated.

Clearing my head of my thoughts, I look up at him and smile.

"Okay. I get the feeling when I'm being kicked out."

"It's for your own good. I can hide my bad intentions for only so long."

I glance up at him in surprise, and then hesitate at the doorway. And then, Trunks cracks a smile and starts to laugh.

"Fuck, Goten, you are still way too gullible."

He walks over to where I'm standing, and leans against the doorframe. He touches my shoulder, and I can see happiness in his eyes.

"Thanks for coming over today. I was having a rough one, and you made it a lot better."

I shrug my shoulders, uncomfortable over his gratitude.

"It was nothing, Trunks."

He snorts at my blanket statement, and then grabs my arm to pull me into a rough hug. I'm not expecting it, but it feels better than it should. I sigh in disappointment when he pulls away slowly.

"Idiot, you better get home. I'll see you next week sometime? Just make sure to tell that guy where you are going instead of skulking around like a moron. I don't want you to get in trouble on my account."

I nod my head, and then tell him goodnight. He waves me away, and then closes his door.

I make my way out of the building and head towards the end of the driveway. Reluctantly, I take off into the air and pull away from Trunks's presence.

Flying along, I think about what he said. I know it hasn't been fair for me to suddenly try to push Shinji out of my life, but at the same time I feel frustrated being close to Trunks, and not being able have what it was that _he_ wanted originally. It's almost like the two of us have switched places.

Making my way home, I think about what I'm going to tell Shinji and what it is he'll say when he finds out that Trunks has reappeared in my life. I never really explained what had happened to me, but I know that is perceptive enough to have figured out the essential parts. To make it more complicated, I also know that Shinji won't be happy to know that Trunks is back. All of that only gives me a headache.

Gohan said that when the time was right, I would know what to do. I wish it was that simple. I have a feeling that it won't be, in the end. I don't want to lose Trunks, but I don't want to hurt Shinji, either, and yet I feel like both of those are very real possibilities. It makes me wish that life never had to become complicated.

What I wouldn't trade for a simple life. Unfortunately, things never end up being that way.

_Well, what do you think of Trunks's reaction in regards to Goten's revelation about Shinji? In all honesty, I've been thinking about how to write this for months...eek! This is the end result of that, but don't worry if you are despondent over Trunks's outward acceptance of Goten's relationship. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Leave a review if you would like._


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